


Grass And Sand

by thebesttempinchiswick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Artist Castiel, Beta Gabriel, Fluff, HS!AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, omega cas, slight psychological element
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 47,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebesttempinchiswick/pseuds/thebesttempinchiswick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is 21 when he meets his mate, high school senior Castiel Novak. The sun is bright in the sky, and the weeks go by perfectly. Until they don’t. Until weeks turn into months, dust and rain fill the air and the sky, and something twists in Dean’s stomach and scratches at his bones. And as the year winds to an end, time is running out. But for what?</p><p>playlist <a href="https://8tracks.com/mydarlingasalways/grass-and-sand-mix">x</a><a></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. lay us down in the chapel (and well take our pants off)

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! I'll be warning chapter by chapter for this fic. There are no warnings for this chapter. It does have smut, though :).

September 18th, 2013.

  
Sioux Falls, South Dakota, was a quiet town. Quiet and nondescript. If you didn't know it well, you wouldn't have been able to tell it apart from any other small town in America, he supposed.

  
But he knew it well. He'd lived here his whole life, hadn't he? He'd have recognized it anywhere. It was his home. He'd been born at St. Augustine's hospital, gone to school at the schools here, even ran for the track team in high school. He breathed the bright sunlight through the trees, knew the kaleidoscope patterns it made on the ground like his own veins.

  
It was more than that, too. The woods over the interstate had been his playground as much as his parents' backyard had been. Ellen's bar, the Roadhouse, was his second living room. He'd driven down these same roads so many times he could do it with his eyes closed. Bobby's garage had been his first and only place of work. The river in the woods was the only place he hadn't played as a child. It wasn't calm enough to swim in, which drove children away in the summer, and it was often filled with sharp ice in the winter or overflowing it's banks in the spring. But you could hear it rushing from pretty much anywhere in the woods, and thus, it's song was still a part of the town. He knew this town like the back of his hand. Well, except for one part of the town. But no one went there, not ever.

  
That part of town was the mansion beyond the woods, on the edge of town. It was something of a mystery to everyone. He knew a family called the Novaks lived there; the wealthy people who owned the church. He'd gone to school with two of them, Zachariah and Uriel, but he'd never seen them. The family kept to themselves, and no one really wanted to bother them. Things were peaceful here, and that was how people liked it.  
He liked it too. He was happy here, he always had been. He'd moved out of his parents' place about three years ago and into an apartment downtown. Some quiet complex called Magnolia Gardens. It was close enough that he saw his family often, but still, he was living on his own. He saw his dad every day at Bobby's garage, and he saw his mother every weekend when he had no shifts and he could visit. Speaking of visiting, he'd have to bring some pie stuff. It was almost pumpkin pie season, and his mother made the best pie.

  
It was the time of year when summer was slowly turning into fall. The air was crisp and clear, the leaves not yet beginning to change. The geese hadn't yet flown south.  
At night, in the cool stillness, though he didn't want to admit it, loneliness often crept in. And the more he let himself think, the easier it came.

  
He knew Sam was going off to college next fall, and though he was proud of his brother, he still felt a pang of remorse. He hadn't gone to college, he'd wanted to stay close. He'd just never felt smart enough, though everyone insisted he was. But eventually, his parents gave in to his wish. They'd helped him buy an apartment, and he'd stayed there ever since. But Sam, he was different. He had big dreams, and unfortunately, they were all very far away.

  
Part of the loneliness, also, was the fact that he'd not yet found his mate. And sometimes, in the stillness of the night, he wondered if they were far away. He wondered if he'd been meant to find them, somewhere out in the world, and he'd failed.

  
People described finding their mate in different ways. He'd asked alphas like himself, and they'd said it was like electricity. The best feeling in the world. A perfect companion, and even more perfect sex. Betas didn't have pheromones, so it wasn't quite as intense with them as it was with other alphas or with omegas. But still, everyone described it as the ultimate in life, the big check mark on the list. And he couldn't help but wonder if, somehow, he'd been one of the unlucky few that would never find theirs.

  
Your mate, he knew, was the person whose pheromones reacted perfectly in sync with yours. That was what biology said. But people, real people, said they were so much more. The one person in the world who was yours. They were made for you, and you for them. Finding your mate was a one way ticket to a perfect life, some said. He thought that was a little extreme, but the more he thought about it, the more he salivated for it.

  
And the more the years passed and the seasons changed, the more he longed for that which so many enjoyed. Love, true and pure. He'd heard it called Agape. The love that existed between mates, between family.

  
>

  
The afternoon it happened, he'd been cleaning up from his shift at Bobby's garage, when Sam called him.

  
"Hey man, what's up?" He said.

  
"Hey Dean, I need a favor. I've gotta go to lacrosse practice and I lost track of time, can you come take my friend Cas home?" Sam said, obviously shuffling papers around on the other end.

  
"Sure thing. Who's this friend? Never met him, have I?"

  
"Nah. We were working on a project together."

  
"Alright. Be there in a few." He said, before hanging up.

  
It was only a few minutes to his parents' house, and by the time he got there, Sam had already left and there was a kid sitting on the porch step.

  
No, scratch that, not a kid. An angel. The young man was about his height and build, with a shock of thick, chocolate colored hair. His skin was still tan, despite the chill settling in at the end of september. He had plush pink lips, and eyes that reminded him of childhood trips to the ocean. Pull it together, Winchester, he thought. He had to take the kid home, after all, he couldn't do that by sitting in his car and gaping.

  
"You Cas? I'm Dean." he said, stepping out of his car. Before he could get any more words out, a breeze wafted towards him, carrying with it the boy's scent.

  
Oh, sweet jesus. He smelled so incredible. Jasmine and lavender and honey and a thousand other things Dean had no name for. He'd met other omegas before, but none of them had come even close to this. He was sure that if he could bottle the scent somehow, he'd be a millionaire in a week.

  
"I'm, uh, supposed to take you home." He stuttered after a long pause.

  
"Hello, Dean." Said Cas. "Thanks for coming by, your brother and I lost track of time." He was standing now, walking towards Dean and the car.

  
When he went to open the passenger door, his hand brushed Dean's, and a shock of arousal and electricity went through him. He saw Cas's eyes flutter and open wide, and knew he had felt it too. Moving towards him, he reached out to cup his cheek, and felt it again, sweet and pure. "Is this alright?" He whispered.

  
Cas leaned in, close to him. "Yes." He whispered back hungrily as he pressed his mouth to Dean's. What he had felt before didn't even compare. Each sensation was better than the last. He knew Cas must've been smelling him too, must've been feeling the same things.  
"We should go somewhere more private." Said Cas.

  
>

  
Somewhere more private ended up being the woods off the interstate. Dean knew a turnoff that was hidden from view, one that cops didn't use to stop people speeding. Just past the two mile marker, the roofs of the houses just visible over the thin trees on the other side of the interstate.

  
Once parked out of sight, they made short work of their clothes and climbed into the backseat. Dean pulled a condom from the pocket of his jeans. It was the good kind, one of the ones with lube already on it. He smeared some on his fingers and, starting with the index, pressed into Cas's tight hole.

  
Cas was on his lap, squirming and rocking back onto his fingers. His hands were tangled in Dean's hair, lips sucking at his pulse point and moving up to his earlobe. He used his free hand to keep their hips pressed together, palming the smooth skin of Castiel's back. "Come on, baby, get wet for me." He growled into Cas's shoulder.

  
Cas's slick began to drip from between his legs as Dean added a second finger, pulsing harder and harder. Cas threw his head back. "Need you. Dean, need you. Need your cock."

  
"You gotta ask, baby. What do you want?"

  
"Fuck me. Please, please fuck me. Knot me." He moaned, and Dean could feel his knot about to swell. He thrust into Cas, pulling in and out of his hot, slick hole. Thrusts turned to grinding as his knot caught, and Cas took it all with ease, coming white stripes and painting them together.

  
And it was then that he knew. They were mates. He could feel it, between them, that electricity tying them together with more than just a knot. He wondered briefly, if Cas could feel it too.

  
Wow.

  
"How long?" Mumbled Cas, who's head had fallen in the crook of Dean's neck.

  
"How long's it take? About half an hour. Usual time. If you were asking how long I am, let's say seven inches." He quipped, wagging his eyebrows.

  
That made Cas laugh against his shoulder. "You're a funny man, Dean Winchester."

  
He decided to try something. "We've got a little time. Up for twenty questions?"

  
"Sure. Why not." Said Cas.

  
"First of all, what's your last name?"

  
"Novak." Said Cas. "Yes, like the family that owns the church, and the mansion. By the way, that's where I live." Cas said it like he was tired of it, like it bored him.

  
Dean let out a low whistle. "Church family. So is your dad gonna chase me away with a gun?"

  
"First of all, that's two questions, so I get to ask two now." Cas teased. "And second of all, no. My parents are dead. They died when I was little, before we moved here. And I doubt any of my brothers care enough to chase you away." He said, softer.

  
"Wow. I'm sorry, man, I didn't know." Was he a dick or what?

  
Cas shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I've moved past it. Anyway, it's my turn now. Let's start off easy; what do you do?"

  
"I work at Singer Salvage. My dad does, too. We're friends with the owner, Bobby. I didn't really want to go to college, so I bought an apartment instead and got a job there."  
"Yeah, I'm not big on college either. I'd really like to stay here."

  
"You should." Said Dean. "It's not that bad, for a small town."

  
Cas looked thoughtful, almost sad, for a moment. "I'd like to." He repeated. "Anyway, next question. What did you get your mother for her last birthday?"

  
"That's a really random question."

  
"Not if you think about it. You can tell a lot about someone from the gifts they give. And according to Sam, you all cherish your mother very much."

  
The kid was pretty damn smart. A strategist. "You're right about that. She's the best. Anyway, I think I got her some new scrubs. She works at the hospital, and she always says she never has enough scrubs. I got her some she liked from one of those catalogues."

  
"That's thoughtful of you."

  
"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic."

  
"No really, it was." He smiled. "She's lucky to have such kind sons."

  
He blushed involuntarily. This was rapidly turning sappy, and he tried not to do sappy on the first date. If this even was a date. "My turn. You said you moved here, where from?"  
"St. Petersburg. I am technically Russian, but I have dual citizenship. We all do."  
"Who's we?"

  
"My siblings and I. Michael, who is abroad right now, Lucifer, Raphael, Zachariah, Uriel, Gabriel, who has left the family, Anael, and myself."

  
"Whoa, that's a lot, man."

  
"Raphael and Uriel are my step brothers. My mother died giving birth to Anna and I, my father married their mother, and then she left. My father died shortly after, but by that time, Michael and Raphael were of age, so we moved here in order to better run my father's business."

  
"And you're cool with all that?" He asked, genuinely intrigued now.  
"No one asked me if I was 'cool' with it." He said, making air quotes around 'cool'. "But even still, I didn't mind much. I was only eleven at the time of our move, even younger when my parents died."

  
Dean was at a loss for something to say. It was strange. Castiel was eighteen, and that meant he had been here for seven years. Seven years, and they hadn't seen each other once. It was strange how, in such a small town, things could still hide. Not everything could be exposed together all at once, he supposed. Some things must be left in the dark in order for other things to move into the light.

  
"I apologize, I did not mean to overwhelm you. It's an old story to me, I forget sometimes how shocking it is for others to hear." Said Castiel.

  
"No, don't be sorry. It's not your fault. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know the answer." Shifting slightly, he realized his knot had gone down. "Hey, do you want to come back to my place? It's more comfortable, I could get you a drink or something to eat."  
Cas smiled at him. "I'd like that a lot."

  
>

  
"So you go to Sam's school?" Asked Dean, handing Cas a glass of water. It was only once someone was actually in his house that he realized he wasn't really prepared for company. He didn't even really have a living room, it joined the kitchen, but he had an okay couch. He was the only one ever there, anyway.

  
"Yes. He and I are taking Latin together, we were working on a project today for the class."

  
"Do you know any of his other friends?" Dean asked, trying his best to make small talk.  
"I know his friend Ruby, and Kevin, but not many others. I am also friends with Meg Masters and Balthazar Winslet, but I'm not sure if Sam knows them. I'm not really in the social scene at the school."

  
"Yeah, I wasn't either." He half lied. He wasn't one of the cliquey popular kids, not by a long shot, but he knew more than five people.

  
"Is there something you wanted to talk about, while I was here?" Asked Cas.

  
Well, the jig was up. Damn, this guy was sharp. And cute. As hell.

  
He cleared his throat. He knew, theoretically, what was supposed to happen now. They were mates, and that was nothing small. Some people went their whole lives without meeting their mate, and they had been lucky to find each other so young. Most people, when they found theirs, dropped everything to be with them. Moved over states, sometimes counties, quit jobs, got married. The whole nine yards.

  
But then again, Cas didn't seem like 'most people'.

  
"Yeah, um. I know this place is kind of crappy, but I could definitely fix it up a bit, get a coffee table and maybe some chairs, you know?"

  
Cas squinted and tilted his head. God, was that adorable. "I don't understand what you're saying, Dean."

  
"Would you wanna move in with me? You, uh, you said you wanted to stay in town, and I do too, and since we're mates–"

  
"I'm gonna have to stop you." Said Cas. Dean snapped his jaw shut, trying to keep the hurt out of his eyes. He berated himself for being so hopeful. He'd just met this man, what, an hour ago? An hour and a half?

  
"Look, Dean, I won't deny what I felt with you. What I feel with you. We are most certainly mates, and I'm actually quite pleased that it's you. You seem very kind, and from what Sam tells me, you are a good man and a good brother." Cas paused to take a sip of his water. "But if you think I'm going to blindly go with you, you're mistaken. I want to spend more time with you. I'd like to date you, get to know you, before I decide whether I want to move in with you, among other things. I hope that is acceptable."

  
"Of course, yeah, I get it. I'd like to spend time with you, too. So, let's just say, you're welcome here anytime. And, maybe we could get lunch tomorrow? I could pick you up after school."

  
Cas beamed at him. "That sounds great."

  
He scratched at his neck awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. They were sitting next to each other on the couch, knees touching. Cas set his water down on the table, and leaned in close to Dean, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. "You know, you still haven't shown me the bedroom."

  
I've died and gone to heaven, thought Dean, wrapping Cas's legs around his hips and carrying him into the bedroom, never breaking the kiss.

  
Afterwards, they laid together for awhile, naked but for the fading golden light outside. "Should I take you home now?" Asked Dean. "Oh god, you were supposed to be there hours ago."

  
Cas sighed. "No one's gonna care that I'm not. Well, Anna might, but no one else will."  
Dean didn't know what that meant, and he wasn't sure how to ask. Before he could figure it out, Cas started talking again. "Shit. While we're on the subject, there's something we should talk about. It could be a potential problem."

  
"Hit me." Said Dean.

  
"You want me to strike you? Why?" Asked Cas, honestly confused.

  
He chuckled. "No, Cas, it means tell me. Lay it on me."

  
"Ah, I see." Cas shook his head. "Seven years, and some of your expressions are still lost on me. Anyway, I have a trust fund set up for college. Technically, the money was mine once I turned eighteen, but my brothers are still trying to control it. They want me to go to a Christian college before becoming a priest, joining their business, and living a celibate life."

  
Dean was stunned. "They can't make you do that, can they?"

  
"They can be persuasive."

  
Dean guessed that didn't mean they were sweet-talkers.

  
"I could abandon them, like Gabriel did, but that would render me homeless and penniless."

  
Dean fought the urge to tell Cas that he would never be homeless, that he would provide for him. That he would be taken care of. "I'm sure we can figure something out. It's only September, after all."

  
"I hope so, for both our sakes." Cas murmured into Dean's chest, where his head lay.  
Dean could see the sun going down in the west over his balcony, the sky painted pink and gold and blue. Cas was a mystery, but at least he was a friendly one. At least he was this lucky, to have this boy in his arms, to have this beautiful evening. And if he was even luckier, there would be more evenings. More sunsets. Sunrises, mornings, days.

  
They basked in the afterglow for awhile, in their own reverie, before finally getting dressed and grabbing the car keys.

  
When they pulled up to the mansion, it was dark. He kissed Cas one last time before he said goodnight and drove off.

  
>

  
Cas waited until Dean drove off. He didn't want to go home, not yet. Instead, he walked back across the interstate, to the old church on front street. And there, he entered, just in time for the late mass.

  
He tried to pay attention to the sermon, but he failed. His mind was consumed by Dean Winchester.

  
And what a lovely thing to be consumed by, he thought. His strong hands, his soft lips, his beautiful, freckled skin. He was like a sculpture come to life. He was everything Cas had ever dreamed of, since he was a child. Most importantly, he was kind. He was kind and gentle and loving.

  
And with that, Cas convinced himself all over again that Dean was simply too good to be true. He was much, much too good for him. Cas had to keep his distance, give Dean time. Maybe, with enough time, he'd find someone worthy, someone pure of heart. A soul to match the brightness that was Dean's.

  
He'd offered quite the explanation, though, hadn't he? For not wanting to stay, that was. It was partially true, after all. If he was going to be serious with Dean, he had to be sure. Not only sure that Dean wouldn't leave him or hurt him, as was the pattern of his life, but sure that Dean wouldn't be happier with someone else.

  
And with that mission in mind, he finally caught the end of the sermon. It turned out to be about deliverance. It was actually one of his favorites, Daniel in the lions' den.

  
He relaxed into the hard oak of the pew, and listened to the Father. And that night, lying awake in bed, he couldn't help but think how much Dean looked like an angel.


	2. you can't give what you can't take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for mentions of food, drugs, and alcohol

The next day, when Dean drove to the school, he wasn't sure where to pick Cas up. However, he simply followed the crowd of other people waiting in line for their students. Cas found his car within a few moments, pulled open the door, and stepped in. "Hello, Dean."

  
Oh god, that voice. Dean didn't think he'd ever get used to it. "Hey, Cas. How was school?" He said, trying not to be too infatuated. At least not in public.

  
Cas looked like he hadn't been expecting the question. "Um, school was fine. How was your day?"

  
"Sweaty. Greasy. Some poor sap had his escalade crunched and he needed us to fix it. It was a bitch, but we did it."

  
"This poor sap wouldn't have been short, blonde, and annoying, would he?"

  
It was Dean's turn to be confused. "He was definitely short and blonde, I didn't talk to him long enough to tell if he was annoying. Longish hair, though, kind of like Sam's, but even longer."

  
Cas rolled his eyes. "That's my brother, Gabriel. He told me he was coming into town for the Halloween Bash at that club downtown in a few weeks. Eden's the name, I think. He must've crashed on the way up here."

  
"Where does he live?"

  
"Sioux City. He goes to college in California, somewhere in San Jose, but he took a year off."

  
"Dude, we should totally go to that party! Everyone in town goes, I'm gonna sneak Sam in this year. Have you ever been? It's amazing!!"

  
"No, I have never been, but Anna has been sneaking in since she could drive. I believe she's planning on going this year with her girlfriend, Hester."

  
"Oh man, I have to take you. Come on, it'll be fun! Say you'll go?"

  
Cas took a moment to consider. He had a bad history with parties, but then again, they'd all been his family's parties. And he'd be with Dean. "Alright, I'll go. It can't be that bad if everyone is so enamored of it."

  
Dean punched the air. "Yes!"

  
"Where are we going for lunch?" Asked Cas, changing the subject.

  
"I was thinking we'd go to the Roadhouse, if that's all right."

  
"I've never been. But I'd like to go."

  
"What do you mean you've never been? Where does your family eat?"

  
"We have a cook, she makes meals and leaves them in the fridge. We only eat together when Michael is in town, and he hasn't been in over a year."

  
Dean shook his head. "Dude. I'm introducing you to an American classic: the bar burger."

  
>

  
Dean walked into the bar like he'd been there every day of his life. Maybe he has, thought Cas. Anyway, as soon as he got inside, he yelled "Hey Ellen, hey Jo!" And took Cas's hand, taking him to sit at the bar.

  
"Are we old enough?" Asked Cas.

  
"Psh. 'Course we are, this is Ellen's bar, she's a friend."

  
Just then, a blonde girl, about Dean's age, came out of the kitchen. "Dean Winchester. Are you here just to see me?" She quipped.

  
"Not today, Jo." He grinned. "This is my friend Cas. Cas, this is Jo. She's being annoying on purpose."

  
"Hi." He said, trying not to let things get awkward.

  
"What can I get you, Cas?" She asked, pulling out a pad and paper.

  
He looked at Dean. "Two burgers, please." Said Dean.

  
"Come on, now, you don't need to order for him." Chided Jo.

  
"Relax, Jo. He's never even been here before."

  
"That's weird." She said. "I didn't think I knew you, but just about everyone's been here at least once."

  
She was interrupted by a long haired boy, probably in his late teens, came out of the back room. He was wearing a t shirt with the sleeves cut off and a baseball cap, and the side of his face had a fabric pattern pressed into it, like he had laid on a couch for awhile. "Jo! I fell asleep, did my package come?" He asked.

  
Jo rolled her eyes. "No, Ash, if didn't. And I'm telling you, you're gonna get arrested."

  
"What'd you order, Ash? Oh, and by the way. Cas, Ash, Ash, Cas." He gestured between the two of them.

  
Ash nodded at him, and he waved. Then the man turned to Dean. "Satellite dishes, dude. I've got a ham radio, and I'm gonna point them at the police station and see if I can hack into their radio and hear what's goin' on."

  
Cas was stunned, but Dean didn't even blink. "Ash, you know nothing happens in this town, right?"

  
"Nothing's happened, but I'll bet you all my money something will one day. And when it does, I'll know." He said. Cas couldn't tell if he was serious.

  
When he walked away, Cas asked. "Can he really do that? Hack the police radio, I mean?"  
"He probably can." said Dean. "That dude is smart as a tack, if a little nutty."

  
Jo brought them cokes, and Dean took a huge sip of his. "By the way, these are most of my friends. Only people you haven't met yet's Charlie and Pamela. They're the only ones that stayed in town after high school, anyway."

  
"Maybe I've met them. Where do they work? Where does your family work?" He asked.   
"Pamela tends bar at Eden, and Charlie works at the garage. She's the receptionist. Ever since Bobby's wife, Jody, got elected Police Chief, she couldn't help him with the filing anymore. And he didn't want to do it himself, so he hired Charlie. That was about the same time I started working there, three or four years ago. Dad works there too. My mom's an ER nurse at St. Augustine Hospital."

  
"I've never been any of those places. But my sister Anna restocks stuff at Kroger, and my brother Gabriel just gets jobs wherever he goes. He's renting a place in Sioux City, I think he's a barista right now."

  
"That explains the lack of insurance. I remember from when he paid for his car, I think Bobby felt bad and gave him a discount."

  
Cas sighed, shaking his head. "He's just lucky no one got hurt. He's on parole for another two months, he could've been in big trouble."

  
"What's he on parole for?" Asked Dean. He then realized what a personal question that was. "You don't have to answer that, I shouldn't have asked."

  
"It's alright. He's just an idiot, basically. He had a bad breakup with a girl named Kali, and then he broke into her house to try to win her back. He was seventeen and she was sixteen, and her father called the cops. Michael bailed him out, but he still got convicted. They only gave him a few months, though, since he was a minor. And, I guess, because Michael threw some money at them."

  
"That's rough. He's been better, though?"

  
"As better as he gets." Said Cas. Jo brought their food out just then, and they dug in.

  
>

 

"I take it you like them?" Asked Dean, when Cas was on his third burger.

  
"This pleases me." Said Cas, smiling into his food. He ate like a starving man. It was no surprise, though. Ellen's burgers were works of art.

  
"Can I get you boys anything else?" Drawled Ellen, stepping out of the kitchen to see them.

  
She was a little taller than Jo, with the same rosy cheeks and eyes of the same shade. Her hair was brunette, and Cas suspected that Jo's was bleached. She looked kind, and if the lines around her eyes gave any indication, she smiled a lot. He liked her immediately. He liked all of Dean's friends, come to think of it.

  
"You don't have pie, do you?" Asked Dean.

  
"I don't. You gotta tell your mama to bring some more 'round. You're the third person today who's asked me for some."

  
"I'll tell her, but she's been busy at the hospital lately. Lots of people comin' in, more so than usual."

  
"That's awful." Said Ellen, wiping the bar. "She say why?"

  
"She said it's weird. Lots of druggies, she says. And if they're not overdosing, they're in withdrawal."

  
Ellen looked thoughtful. "Wonder if Jody's heard anything about that."

  
"Maybe she has. She'd know more than we would, anyway." Dean shrugged it off. "Hey Cas, when you're done, you wanna go for a walk?"

  
They walked along the street for a while, turning at Dean's apartment. They didn't go into the building, but instead headed towards the woods. They walked slowly, hands clasped in comfortable silence. Cas realized he hadn't felt this good in a long time. When he was with Dean, this warm, calming feeling spread out in his chest. It was like walking around with a soft, thick blanket around your shoulders, but never so warm that it was suffocating. After a while, he began to notice that the sun was going down, and they were heading back to the car. 

"Would you like to come over? If not, I can take you back to the school to get your car."

  
His nice mood faded a little bit. "I don't have a car."

  
Dean looked confused. "I would've thought you guys did. How do you get places, then?"

  
"Technically, my family have cars.." He muttered. "I'm just not really supposed to drive them."

  
"So do you, just, walk everywhere?"

  
"Yes." He answered. "I do."

  
"You know, I could probably get you a good deal on a car."

  
"I don't think that's a good idea." Said Cas. He'd love to, but he didn't want his family asking questions about where he got the car. "Besides. I'm used to walking by now, it gives me exercise."

  
Dean chuckled. "Alright. But if you need a ride anywhere, gimme a call. Oh, shit! Here, trade phones with me. I'll put my number in yours, and you put yours in mine."

  
They did just that, and then turned to walk back to Dean's car.

  
"Could you drop me off at the church? I think I can still make six o'clock mass."

  
"Sure. I didn't know people went to church on Thursday nights." Said Dean.

  
"I go when I can. No one else does, anymore, except for Sundays."

  
"Why do you go, then?"

  
"I find it comforting. The idea that God is watching out for us. It also reminds me of my father. He was a devout man."

  
"Was he a priest?"

  
"Of sorts." Said Cas. "His business was building churches in poor areas. It was originally a nonprofit, but he couldn't support himself on that. Now Michael is the head of it, and I'm not sure what they do. I lost track." Said Cas.

  
"Sounds very business-y." Said Dean. "Engineering was more my thing."

  
"Alright, Scotty." Said Cas, grinning.

  
"You like Star Trek?!? Why didn't you tell me! Ok man, I know what we're doing this weekend." Said Dean. "Who's your favorite captain?"

  
"Probably Picard. He was very wise, and I admired that. And you?"

  
"Kirk. All the way."

  
"You would like Kirk." Laughed Cas, lovingly. "He was full of heart."

  
They got to the church too quickly. "Do I get a kiss goodbye?" Asked Dean. Cas leaned in close, pressing his lips to Dean's. He was soft at first, but gradually began to push his tongue past Dean's lips, exploring his mouth. Dean ran his hand through Cas's hair, feeling it soft and plush beneath his fingers, drawing Cas closer. When they broke apart, he wanted more.

  
"I'd like to see you soon." Said Cas.

  
"I'm free every day after three." Said Dean. "And I'm free every night, too." He winked.   
Cas just laughed, a sound like a cello. It was short, but Dean thought it was beautiful. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to make Cas laugh every day, just so he could hear that sound.

  
Cas turned, and walked away into the house, and Dean lingered for a second, making up his mind, before driving off.

  
>

  
He stopped at the bank on main, and drew a hundred fifty out of his account. He got paid tomorrow, he'd be fine anyway. Then, instead of going to his house, he got on the interstate. It was forty five minutes into the city with traffic, but luckily, he was on the end of rush hour. And he didn't end to go all the way into the city, anyway. Just to the outskirts.

  
The sun had set, but the sky was still slightly blue in the west. He could see stars coming out overhead. He had the windows rolled down, the muggy September heat gone with the wind whipping through the car. It felt a little like flying.

  
When he parked outside the IKEA, he could hear cicadas chirping in the trees. They'd be gone soon, he thought. Summer was giving way to fall. And with it, people would be staying indoors more.

  
He'd never thought to buy more than a couch for himself, it was all he'd needed. But now he had Cas, and he felt foolish for not having a table and chairs. He knew Cas didn't really care, but his pride did. So here he was, at eight o'clock on a Thursday night, furniture shopping, like a Real Live Adult. Sam would make fun of him if he knew. Say he was getting old. But it didn't matter. He wanted to have a table and chairs, if only for Cas. He wanted Cas to feel at home, to feel provided for. And if that meant being a Grown Up and shopping for furniture, he would do it with bells on.

  
A few minutes into the store, and he realized he had no idea what he was doing. So he tracked down a sales associate, Rachel, and asked for help. "I don't have much room, but I'd like a coffee table, and maybe a chair or two. Something comfortable."

  
She turned out to be very helpful. He located a good size table, with baskets under it to hold books and tv remotes and stuff. And he also found two chairs to go with it, comfortable without being too large. He hoped Cas would like them. Part of him knew that Cas would, that they didn't really matter, it would just be nice to have chairs, but part of him also really wanted to please. He wanted to make a home for his mate. Somewhere he could be safe and comfortable and warm.

  
He bought the chairs and the table, and he spent all night putting them together. The instructions weren't English, they were just pictures and numbers, so he had to get out his laptop and google videos on how to do it. But at three in the morning, when he was finished, he was pretty damn proud of himself. And if he was late for his shift tomorrow, at least he had new furniture. 


	3. in all the lonely days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it gets nsfw up in here, people. mentions of panties and toys as well as subspace (bdsm). there's also a smoking scene. and some light blasphemy of the fantasizing-about-fucking-in-a-church nature ;)

After mass, he decided he needed to think this through again. This thing with Dean. If there was one thing he'd learned, it was that the best way to solve a problem was to think it through. But that was just the problem, wasn't it? He couldn't think. Because every time he did, it was of bright green eyes, like fields of grass in the sun.

  
Eventually, he went to Gabe's old room and stole a pack of the cigarettes still left there. Then he walked out the back door, and he didn't stop walking. He kept going and going until he was miles from the house. He hadn't taken the path either, he was deep in the woods. But he knew where he was going.

  
When he got to the hill, he climbed to the top. From there, you could see everything.  
Over the pines, the lights of the town shone bright. The school football field was the brightest and the downtown area with all of the clubs and restaurants. And apartments. Where Dean's apartment was. He took out a smoke and lit it, gagging at the taste but savoring the feeling. Maybe this had all been a dream, and he'd wake up tomorrow back in the real world. The world where everyone but Meg and Baz left him alone, and they were right to. The world where things made sense.

  
Cas couldn't trust anyone. He knew that. And moreover, no one could trust him. He was hell bound, a monster in the shell of a young man. He knew that, he always had. But no one else, did, a small mercy. It seemed to him that God did sometimes take pity on his children. Even the condemned ones.

  
And that was part of the reason he'd refused Dean. He couldn't tie himself to that man, happy and bright as he was. He couldn't weigh him down.

  
And the other part? He wasn't entirely sure. Something in him shrunk back at the idea of someone showing him such genuineness. Could he really trust Dean? As amazing as he had seemed, Cas couldn't trust someone he'd just met. He was smarter than that. He wouldn't move in with Dean only to find out that Dean could be as wicked as he.

  
For tonight, he would sleep in his own bed. Business as usual, as it had always been. And tomorrow, they'd eat lunch. And maybe the next day. And maybe this weekend, he'd sleep at Dean's. But tonight, he couldn't.

  
He left the hill feeling as conflicted as he had when he'd came. Maybe, if Dean really wanted to put in the effort, he could trust him. But then again, wasn't he all the more awful for forcing him to put in all that effort, when he'd never deserve it?  
He calmed a little with the idea that maybe, if things worked out, he could give something back someday.

  
>

  
"Dean, I wanna talk about my heat with you." Said Cas, propping his chin on Dean's chest, so that he was looking him in the eyes.

  
"Like, in a hot way?" Asked Dean, not sure where this was going. Was Cas really up for round two already?

  
"No, it's just that it's going to be next weekend. I wanted to know if you'd like to spend it with me."

  
"Of course I would." He answered, enthused. Cas was an animal in bed now, he could only imagine him in heat. Slick and sweet and begging for his knot, oh man. If Dean hadn't just come down, he might be hard again just thinking about it.

  
Cas smiled. "I'm glad. I'd very much like to spend it with you. I've not spent it with someone in quite a while."

  
"How come?" Asked Dean.

  
"Well, during my heat, I seem to always go into subspace. I began to realize that I was better off on my own and in my regular headspace than with an alpha I didn't know very well." He said, matter-of-factly.

  
"What's subspace?" Asked Dean. He knew that a sub was something to do with BDSM, but he'd never experimented with that beyond the occasional command or slap on the ass.  
"The best way I can explain it is that you go into a different headspace, one where you've completely given yourself over to the dominant partner. Someone who's more into BDSM could explain it better than I can, probably. Thing is, at first I didn't know what it was or how to come down from it, so it was really really hard to deal with. I got sub-drop a few times before I had a partner who explained it to me." Seeing the confused look on Dean's face, he continued explaining. "Sub-drop is when you feel very ashamed or guilty after sex, usually about how you let yourself be commanded or used."

  
Dean was getting slightly worried. Did Cas think he was going to be, like, really crazy during his heat? Because it sounded like Cas had way more experience in the kink department than Dean did. He didn't even own a pair or handcuffs. He had a fleshlight that Jo had gotten him as a joke when he turned eighteen, and a purple dildo that he had used experimentally a few times. And that was it. "So, um, how kinky are you wanting to go? Cause I gotta tell you, I've never used ropes or anything in the bedroom. Not that I wouldn't be willing to try, but if that's what you want to do, then you'll have to give me some pointers."

  
"Oh, no no." Said Cas, back pedaling. "That's not what I'm talking about. Trust me, that's not really my scene either. The dirtiest thing I've ever done is worn panties." Said Cas, smirking at the memory. The thought alone gave Dean a semi, which he knew Cas felt. "Anyway, what I'm really trying to tell you is that, during my heat, I tend to need help coming back down. It's called aftercare, and it usually involves a lot of cuddling."

  
"Now that's something I can do." Said Dean. He had plenty of experience in the cuddling department, and he could hold Cas all day. He smelled so sweet it made Dean's muscles relax just being this close. Yeah, that was definitely something he was up for. "Anything else? Anything in particular you like to do?" He asked.

  
"Well, there is one thing." Said Cas.

  
And that was how Dean Winchester ended up in the mall a town over, in what was possibly the weirdest shop ever to have existed.

  
Well, maybe not the weirdest shop. Saying that would be like begging the universe to find him one even weirder. But this was still very, very new for him.

  
He wasn't much of a soap guy. He bought big packs of generic body soap from the Walgreens, the same place he bought his hand soap and shampoo. He bought nice smelling aftershave and deodorant, but he'd never given much thought to the actual soap. And now, here he was, in a store full of hand made soaps, all of different kinds. He racked his brains, trying to make sure this was the right place. "I go to Lush and get these bath bomb things." Cas had said. "I like the Twilight and Honey Lumps ones best."  
Dean had nodded, not wanting to let Cas in on the fact that he was going over the information in his mind, committing it to memory so that he could go get them. He wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise. He hadn't expected them to have so many kinds of soap, though.

  
There was a table in the center, with gigantic blocks of soap stacked on it. He went to them first, unable to resist picking a few up and smelling them. Some of them were soft and sweet, others pungent and borderline unpleasant, and a few were genuinely obnoxious. He moved to one of the walls, perusing the lotions and face masks. Now these, he thought, he could really get into. He found one that he really liked, a bottle of vanilla scented lotion. It was a little expensive, but he held onto it anyway. It could really come in handy sometime.

  
He turned to the other wall, and was met with buckets of round, chalk like objects in many colors, each about the size and shape of a baseball. Some of them were in shapes, like stars or hearts, and others had tiny objects on them, like flowers. A sign confirmed his suspicions that these were, in fact, the bath bombs.

  
Fortunately, each bucket had a sign sticking out of it and labeling which kind it was. He grabbed a basket from near the door and placed the lotion inside before walking back over to the bath bombs. He first located the bucket labeled "Twilight". It was described as "dreamy lavender froth for sweet dreams." Sweet jesus, he thought. If Jo or Sam were here to see this, he'd never live it down. Scratch that, Sam would probably think it was the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. Jo would be the one taking pictures and mass-texting them to everyone she knew.

  
He grabbed two or three of the Twilight ones, purple-pink with moons and stars on them, before making his way to the slightly more respectable Honey Lumps bombs. They were white and speckled with brown, less obnoxious looking, but smelling just as sweet. "Honey for your lovely lumps," it read. He tried not to dwell on that, grabbing two and placing them in the basket and walking as quickly as possible to the checkout line.  
"Have you ever used these before?" Asked the checkout lady, wrapping each bomb before bagging it.

  
"No." He said. "I've never even shopped here. My, uh, my boyfriend mentioned that he likes this place, that's really why I'm here."

  
"How sweet!" She said. "Well, if you like those, you should come back and get some bath melts too! They're the same concept, except that they hydrate your skin a little more."  
That didn't sound to bad. "Thanks." He said, taking his bag. "Oh, and I'd recommend getting a wicker basket or a large bowl to store all of those in. Otherwise, they kind of roll around." She added.

  
Walking through the mall, he wondered if there was anywhere he could get a wicker basket here. His mom might know. He decided to call her.

  
"Dean! How are you, honey?" She asked, clearly happy to hear from him. Fuck, when had he last called?

  
Oh yeah, before he wasn't getting laid almost every night and then falling promptly asleep. Damn.

  
"I'm good, mom, how are you?" He moved to the food court, sitting at one of the tables. He had a minute, after all. It was Sunday, so he didn't have to get to the garage or Cas's house, or really anywhere.

  
"I'm good, I'm making dinner. You're coming over tonight to eat, right?"

  
"Yeah, 'course. How have you been?"

  
"I've been well. Sam got an A on a Latin project, so we went out for pizza last night as a reward."

  
"That's great. He must've been happy." Said Dean, decidedly not thinking of how he'd "rewarded" Cas for the same A.

  
"So why'd you call?" She asked. He could hear her chopping something in the background, and he wondered how exactly to phrase this. He hadn't exactly told his family about Cas yet, and though he planned to, he wasn't exactly sure how Sam would react to the fact that Dean had fucked one of his friends after promising to take them home. Also, he had to be sure to tell them that Cas was, in fact, legal, or face a lecture about sexual responsibility or something.

  
"I, uh, I'm at the mall. Do you know where I could buy either a small wicker basket or a metal bowl?"

  
"How small are we talking?" She asked, without hesitation.

  
"It needs to fit, like, five or six baseballs." He said, not considering how strange that sounded.

  
"Baseballs, huh?"

  
"Objects the size and shape of baseballs." He said, still not explaining much.  
"I don't know about a basket, but if you want a bowl like that I'd look in the cookware section of Macy's." She said.

  
"Thanks, mom, I owe you one."

  
"You always owe me one, I'm your mother." She joked. "You gonna explain this all to me later?"

  
He guessed there really wasn't a way around it. Besides, he was going to have to ask Bobby for Friday off anyway, and Bobby'd wanna know why, so he should just get it out of the way now. He'd wanted to do right by Cas, and being open about things was doing the right thing. "Yeah. I will."

  
His mom was right. He found a cheap-ish metal bowl, deep enough to hold all of the bath bombs, almost right away. And on his way out of the store, something caught his eye.  
He turned to look at the lingerie section, thinking back to Cas's words. The dirtiest thing I've ever done is worn panties. Part of him really wondered if he'd be up for doing it again.

  
>

  
A gathering of angels appeared above my head  
They sang to me this song of hope, and this is what they said  
They said come sail away, come sail away, come sail away with me!

  
Dean left the radio on and playing as he seasoned the beef, shaping it into patties and putting them on a plate, which he would then put in the fridge. He swayed his hips in time with the music, trying not to be as excited as he was, though he was alone.

  
It was just that Cas was coming over tomorrow, after school. His heat was supposed to start tomorrow. And the thing was, Dean had never spent someone's heat with them. He'd heard it was amazing. Three days of nonstop sex, and the sweetest, slickest sex there is, to boot. God, he wondered what it'd be like. Cas was an animal already, he couldn't even count the times they'd already done it. Over the past week or so, they'd christened the shower, the couch, even the kitchen counter. So extra horny, blissed out Cas? Count him in.

  
He was prepared to take care of Cas, as well. He knew heats left omegas dehydrated and exhausted, and he would have to make sure they were both eating and drinking enough. He took it pretty seriously, because the last thing he wanted was to make a surprise trip to the hospital. He'd make sure Cas was okay. He was pre-making enough burgers right now to last them the weekend. He'd also gone to Costco and bought a few boxes of protein bars, as well as some cases of water, and put a couple in the bedroom and living room. The rest he'd left in the kitchen.

  
And, of course, there was the special gift he'd gotten Cas. The panties. He'd picked a few pairs, nothing too revealing, but still delicate and enticing. One that was pastel pink with rather large bows on the hips, one that was blue and satiny with a bow in the back, and one that was lavender, made entirely of sheer, flowery lace. The more he thought about Cas wearing them, delicate lace framing his sharp hips, or a big bow over his ass, the more he lost track of what he was doing. He'd caved last night and gotten himself off in the shower, thinking of that image. He had absolutely no doubt that if Cas wore them and he got to actually see him in them, it'd be an image he'd remember forever.

  
He wondered where Cas was now. He hadn't come over after school. Maybe he was in church?

  
For some reason, maybe because he was bored, that presented a whole new set of possibilities.

  
He'd finished the burgers and plopped down in front of the television, not bothering to actually watch what was on as he thought of Cas in church. Maybe with him, bent over a pew. Or even better, on top of the alter.

  
God, he was glad no one could read his thoughts. Cas would kill him. That had to be the most blasphemous thing ever conceived.

  
He let it go with a mental note to come back to it later, maybe when Cas was spending the night somewhere else again.

  
>

  
Cas was nervous as hell. His stomach was squeezing itself, becoming knotted and forcing vomit into his mouth. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night, he was supposed to go to Dean's, and spend the next two days with him. In heat. He'd been with people when he was in heat before, but not in a long time, and never in a relationship capacity. It was usually someone he'd picked up at a club, under the pretense of being of age. Whether they'd actually believed him, he'd had no clue. They probably hadn't cared, too enticed by the scent of his heat to give it any further consideration. After they'd finished, he'd never seem any of them again. Not that he'd wanted to.

  
But Dean, Dean was different. Dean was his mate. And he'd be with him for three straight days. To most people, that would've been a dream. Most people would've already moved in, especially considering his... circumstances. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd drive Dean away. The people who lived with him now couldn't stand him, would Dean be able to? He couldn't lose Dean.

  
He'd acted like he was afraid to move in, and now he was. For real. Even thinking about it made his heart beat fast and his hands shake. Old words rang through his ears, black as tar, sharpened by the truth of his years. He never would've gone out if it hadn't been for you.

  
He felt no different than he had then. He still fought himself every day, warring with himself to make everyone think he was as happy, or at least as content, as they were. It was by himself, behind closed doors, that he could drop the façade and just be. He could spend hours, just letting feeling leave him, staring at nothing. But if someone saw him like that, if Dean saw him like that, they'd know. He shouldn't exist. Something was broken in him.

  
And yet he was doing this anyway. Fuck, he'd been the one to bring it up. Ugh, he was an idiot! He was an idiot. He'd known Dean would say yes, he'd known he would be enthused. And now, if he backed out, what then? He knew for certain Dean would never force him to do anything. He clearly prioritized Cas's comfort. But he'd be disappointed at best and concerned at worst. And if Dean was concerned about him, he might start to ask questions. And though he very much wanted to lie, he wasn't entirely certain he'd be able to. And Dean wouldn't understand, not at first, why Cas was doing what he was. Why he stayed here, why he tried to make amends. Which would lead Cas to tell him the story in its entirety. Which would lead Dean to leave.

  
There was no way Cas could tell him and have him continue on like nothing had happened. Cas would poison his life too, and as soon as Dean knew that, he would head for the hills.

  
Cas packed anyway, a few changes of clothes and a toothbrush, putting them in his school bag. He would go, he decided. He'd spend the weekend in Dean's arms, and maybe, just maybe, he'd come out of this with his relationship intact.


	4. it's not half empty or half full, it's leaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't posted in 2 weeks! So sorry! Life's been crazy 
> 
> Warnings for nsfw, a bit of panty!kink, and a tiny bit of Dean topping from the bottom :) <3
> 
> EDIT: I just added in a bit about Cas's birth control. In this 'verse, regular birth control does nothing to affect heats or (in someone with a uterus's case) menstruation, it just eliminates the chance of becoming pregnant. 
> 
> Thanks for being so patient with me! This is my first longer fic and I'm still working out the kinks in my system.

And so came Friday afternoon, in the same fashion as always. The sun beat down on the hood of Dean's car as he sat in the parking lot of the school, waiting for Cas to come out of the building. He'd forgotten how awful it was to have to wait until three o'clock to leave. He'd picked Sammy up enough times to know how much Friday afternoons sucked.

Hell, he remembered them himself. The clock could never move fast enough.

  
Finally, the bell rang and he began to see students pouring out of the doors.

  
Cas was already in heat when he got into Dean's car. He'd almost soaked through his pad, too. He'd been crawling out of his skin all day, pressure bubbling up under his flesh and pressing his shoulders down, begging for release. Sweet release, preferably through orgasm. He was incredibly glad for Dean, waiting for him in the car. He didn't want to think for the next few days, not at all, and he knew Dean would happily oblige him. Thank god above they didn't have to worry about condoms, since Cas was on the pill.

  
As soon as Cas opened the door, his scent hit Dean, stronger than it had ever been, amplified by Cas's heat. Dean was surprised at how much pleasure he took in the fact that he knew he could smell it the best, out of everyone. He was Cas's mate and therefore it affected him the most. As he was thinking this, he felt himself growing hard, unconsciously palming himself through his jeans, which were getting tighter and tighter.

  
"Were you going to drive us home?" Asked Cas, looking at Dean through lowered lashes, coy and teasing. "Or are we going to do this here, in the parking lot?"

  
"Right." Said Dean, trying to play it cool. "Home. Bed, and stuff." Wow, way to be smooth, Winchester. Cas snickered. Dean made a mental note to wipe that stupid, adorable grin off his face as soon as they were behind closed doors.

  
As it so happened, they didn't even make it to the bed. They barely made it to the apartment before Cas's slick was running down his legs and Dean had almost burst out of his jeans. As soon as the door was locked, Cas had Dean's pants open and was pulling his cock free. Dean pulled Cas's coat off of his shoulders, throwing it over a chair and going in for Cas's belt and pants. When he pulled Cas's legs up around him, Cas's bare skin meeting with the rough denim of Dean's jeans, Cas moaned, loving the feeling of it against his ass. "You like that, baby?" Dean whispered into his ear, pressing his lips to the soft spot just underneath it. "Like feeling me against your ass? Want me to fuck you like this?"

  
"Yes!" He moaned, throwing his head back. Dean didn't let go of him, moving with fluid grace as he pressed him against the wall, grinding against his ass. He was already slicked and open, and he ground down to meet Dean, trying to get as much friction as possible. Dean got the message. He thrust up and soon enough, the head of his cock caught at Cas's entrance. Another thrust, and he was in, sliding to the hilt. Cas moaned and squeezed around him. Like he was trying to milk him or something. God, it made his knees weak. Before he even registered what was happening, his knot was swelling and he was coming, Cas still furiously grinding away after his own orgasm. He decided to help him out, reaching between Cas's legs and gathering some of his slick before matching Cas's pace, fisting his cock.

  
Cas's eyes flew open. "Don't stop, don't stop!" He cried, and within moments, he was coming all over himself and Dean. When his breathing evened, Dean's knot was still going. "Couch?" Asked Dean. Cas nodded.

  
>

  
All in all, it was entirely unsurprising to Cas. Not that it was bad, which it wasn't at all. It was just a familiar route for him. Dean was on him and in him as soon as they crossed into his home, and oh god, he'd been so full and so sated and full. He couldn't imagine a better feeling. They'd gone a few rounds, moving from the couch to the carpet to the couch again, and they'd gotten tired. Cas was more worn down than Dean, his heat sucking the very energy from him and turning him into limp mess in Dean's arms. He was prepared to drift off when he felt Dean tugging him up. Again, he wondered? Was Dean still unsatisfied? "Huh?" He mumbled. They'd already done everything, or so he'd thought. They would fall asleep on the couch, and start again when they woke.

  
"C'mon. I'll put you in bed and get you some food." Said Dean.

  
Of course, he thought, Dean would do that. Be the first to give him something new. He let himself crack a small smile. Of course he'd be the one to take care of him, exhausted though they both were. Dean always surprised him. He let Dean slide his arm around his waist and pull him up, half carrying him into the bed, tucking the covers around him and grabbing a water bottle from the bedside table.

  
"Drink up, angel, they don't call them heats for nothing." Said Dean, unscrewing the cap and helping Cas to bring the bottle to his lips. He nursed it for a few moments, not particularly thirsty (but still grateful) before setting it down next to him.

  
When Dean left, and returned again with a burger, his mind came out of its haze and he realized how hungry he was. He wolfed it down in a few bites, licking his fingers to get every bit of it. He put the plate on the table too, pulling Dean down next to him and tucking his head under his chin. Dean immediately began to stroke through his hair, holding him close. "You're so good for me, sweetheart. Love you so much."

  
He blushed under Dean's praise, drawing back in on himself. He knew Dean could tell. He adjusted so that he was facing Cas, their foreheads just touching, Dean's lips centimeters from Cas's. "What, don't you believe me?" He asked, still stroking Cas's hair. Cas tried not to preen under his touch, loving the feeling of Dean's nails ghosting over his head, calloused fingers tangling in his hair. "I don't know, don't people just say that stuff to be nice?" He answered in earnest. "Or sappy?"

  
"Some people do." Admitted Dean. "But I'm not really one of them." He continued. "I mean it, baby. You're absolutely wonderful." He said. Now Cas was really blushing, dropping his eyes away from Dean's. No one had ever said these things to him before, sang him praises like this. And Dean was so comfortable with it, it must've meant he should be too. Should more people have said these things to him? Why hadn't they? Was it him?

  
Dean pulled him out of his thoughts, once again leaning in close to capture his lips in a soft, chaste kiss, as gentle as a breeze. "One day you'll believe me." He said. "I'll tell you every day until you do. How much I love you."

  
Cas was too tired to respond. It was probably just pillow talk, after all. His mind was fogging over with sleep once again, but oh, he almost wanted to stay awake. Not to do anything, though, except be here, in Dean's warm embrace. His new mark pulsed gently on his neck, reminding him of how safe he was here. Dean had given it to him during one of their rounds on the couch, and he knew it would stay, proof he'd found his mate. Proof he spent his nights warm and safe and loved.

  
It was a dream, he was sure. It simply couldn't be real. The strong, warm arms wrapped around him begged otherwise.

  
>

  
So came Saturday, late afternoon, and they were lazing around in bed, watching tv. Dean's cock was soft inside Cas's ass, his lover pressed up against him, content for now. Dean figured he'd be grinding back against him again soon enough. Dean was getting a little tired, though. He thought he might just rim Cas this time, just to change it up, or suck him off. Or maybe they could really change it up. Besides, he'd been wanting to try this with Cas. Now was the perfect time to bring it up. "Hey Cas, have you ever topped before?" He asked.

  
Cas turned to face him, sliding his cock out gently. Cas laid on his chest, propping his chin up to look him in the eyes. "No, I haven't. Why?"

  
He wagged his eyebrows, grinning. "D'you want to?"

  
Cas faltered a little. "I... I don't know how, Dean." He said.

  
"That's fine, I can help you out." Said Dean. "Only if you want to, though."

  
Cas considered for a moment, and them shrugged. "I'll give it a shot. Do you have lubricant?"

  
Dean snorted at how formal Cas sounded, as if he wasn't naked and about to fuck his boyfriend. "Top drawer of my dresser. Next to the socks, and the dildo." He enjoyed watching Cas blush a little as he rifled through the drawer, obviously seeing Dean's purple silicon dildo. It was the only toy he owned, simply because he only used it occasionally.

  
Cas walked back over to Dean, who'd spread his legs open for Cas. "Spread some on your fingers." He said, and Cas did so immediately. "Good." He praised, knowing that Cas loved it. "Now, start with one finger. I've done this before, so you're not gonna hurt me." When Cas immediately went in, wiggling his finger and stretching him, he moaned. "Yeah, baby, you're doing so good. Just like that. Now add another. Try to stretch me, okay? When you're done with that, add a third."

  
He leaned up a little, pushing a pillow under him, so he could watch Cas. He was enraptured in his task, paying attention to nothing but his fingers in Dean's ass. God, oh god, did it feel good. A thrill went through his stomach at how well Cas listened to him, so perfect. "You're doing great, baby." He said. "I think that's enough now." He reached down to pet Cas's hair, noticing how hard he was. Cas was loving this. His dick was so flushed it was almost purple, straining again this stomach. "Put some lube on your dick, baby. Then go ahead. Slow at first, kay? Nod at me, gimme something."

  
Cas nodded his understanding, still focusing on Dean's groin. He leaned over him, his face much closer to Dean's now, and entered on the first thrust. Only the tip went in, but Dean saw a shudder ripple through Cas. "That's it, baby. Little faster now, little deeper." He leaned down to kiss Cas's forehead, his cheek, his eyelids. Cas picked up the pace, little by little, and soon he was pounding into Dean. Cas was using his hands for support, so Dean reached down and stroked himself. When he climaxed, he squeezed around Cas, and that was the end of that. Cas nearly collapsed on him, shaking with his own orgasm, filling Dean up. "So good, baby. You did so good. Love you, baby." Said Dean, stroking Cas through the aftershocks of his orgasm. When Cas fell asleep on his chest, he knew that this would have to be a once-in-a-while thing. But damn, Cas was good at it, especially for a rookie.

  
He waited about an hour, until their bodies had cooled off from the sex, their body temperatures returning to normal. Cas was still asleep on top of him, and he'd watched tv the entire time. But when Cas began to stir, he knew it was time. He wanted to give him something, to show him just how much he loved him, loved this. He wanted to reward him, as weird as that sounded. They weren't really practicing BDSM, and so it couldn't truly be called aftercare, but Cas still needed care of some kind. All omegas did, during their heats. Cas just needed a little bit more than most, and Dean was happy to oblige him.

  
He grabbed a water bottle opening it and helping Cas to drink a little from it, before replacing it with his lips. The kiss was soft and chaste, and ended with Dean grinning. "I'll be right back, sweetheart. Got something I think you'll like."  
He practically ran into the bathroom, plugging up the tub and starting the water running. In the meantime, he grabbed the bottle of nice lotion he'd bought, and went back into the bedroom with it.

  
Cas was laying on his back already, so he peeled the blankets off of him. When Cas moaned in protest, he quickly got some lotion on his hands, warming it up and spreading it on Cas's back. Starting with his shoulders, he massaged it down his back, taking the time to work out every knot and tight muscle he found. Cas was moaning in pleasure, and Dean flushed with pride. He liked doing this well, making Cas feel so good. He worked his way down Cas's back, adding more lotion as he needed it, and eventually moved down Cas's legs, working out the tension in his things and calves.

  
By the time he was done, the tub was done filling. He pressed a kiss to Cas's temple. "Be back again." He said. When he got back into the bathroom, he took one of the bath bombs, a purple one, and threw it into the tub. It fizzed and swirled around, filling the tub with bubbles and making the bathroom smell amazing.

  
Satisfied with it, he went back into the bedroom. Flipping Cas over gently, he picked him up, bridal style, carrying him back into the bathroom. "Why're you carryin' me?" Asked Cas, groggy from sleep.

  
"You'll see." He said. When they reached the tub, he slid Cas in, gently, before joining him.

  
Cas's smile was absolutely blinding. "You got the bath things I told you about?" He asked, surprised and touched.

  
Dean slid behind him, nuzzling into his neck. "I did, baby, just for you."

  
"For me." Breathed Cas, eyes fluttering closed, smiling. He looked so peaceful, like the moon on a clear night. He made Dean think of peaceful streets, buildings illuminated by the moon. Soft rain, standing, letting it wash over him. Peace, openness. He was beautiful in a way that few were, radiating peace and hope and comfort as if it coursed through his veins instead of blood. Silver and blue and dark, cool brown and tan, pink skin and silk, filling the air with his breath and life. Like this. When he was like this. When they were like this. When they were like this, Dean's whole world was shades of blue. And in the best possible way. Midnight skies, dark as wine, silver lake walls, columbia water, navy blood. Blue eyes. His very heart beat for those dazzling, radiant eyes, and for them alone, beating navy blue in his chest.

  
He let everything drain out of him, any tension he'd managed to be holding. He relaxed into the columbia bath water, and lost himself in thoughts of Cas's wonderful sapphire eyes, and for that smile.

  
>

  
Dean's peace didn't exactly last long, not that he minded.

  
When he'd finally gotten the energy to pull Cas and himself out of the bath and drain it, the next thing he did was fall asleep. They'd woken the next day around three in the afternoon, Cas pressed up against him, wrapped in his arms. It was almost sweet, almost lazy, but as soon as they were both awake they were tearing each other's clothes off. Needless to say, they didn't leave the bed for awhile.

  
Cas, though, eventually decided he wanted clothes. Or at least a shirt. "In the second drawer of the dresser." Said Dean. He watched Cas slide off him and cross the room to the dresser, not really looking anywhere but his ass. He couldn't really help himself. It was a wonderful, ass, juicy and squeezable. He did, however, look up when Cas threw something at him. Something that looked nothing like a shirt.

  
"Care to explain?" Asked Cas, as Dean picked up whatever had landed on his chest. A red hot blush immediately spread across his face and neck, reaching to the tips of his ears.  
The baby blue panties. He'd hidden all the panties in that drawer. He cracked a grin, unable to stop himself from laughing. How classic, to forget where he'd hidden them and accidentally lead Cas straight to them. "I bought them because you brought them up once." Said Dean.

  
Cas's pupils dilated a little, and Dean saw him bite his lip. "Were you gonna tell me?"  
"Course I was." Said Dean. "I forgot, was all. You can have them, all three pairs, if you want."

  
Cas swaggered back over to the bed, making a show of swaying his hips and leaning in to kiss Dean sensually. "Do you want me to?" He whispered, hot breath on Dean's lips.  
"Only if you're cool with it." Dean said, trying to keep the arousal out of his voice, keep from growling. Cas could tell anyway, and he knew it.

  
Cas took the panties from his hands, turning around like he was doing a striptease, and putting the panties on. Dean had never been so turned on by watching someone put on clothes before. He licked his lips, feeling his cock hardening and starting to pulse insistently. "What do you think?" Asked Cas.

  
Dean's mind was short circuiting. He had no words for how beautiful Cas looked. He doubted any adequate ones existed. "You look amazing." He finally said. Cas walked back over to him, pulling him so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor. Cas sat down on his thigh, arms around his neck and legs over his other thigh, kissing him again. "Tell me more." Commanded Cas.

  
Dean scrambled. "You look so sweet, baby. So..." Pure? Untouched? Confident? "Beautiful. Innocent."

  
Cas moved again, purposely grinding against Dean's cock as he straddled him, sitting in his lap with a leg on each side of his hips. Dean immediately locked his arms around Cas, ensuring he wouldn't fall and hurt himself as he ground against Dean. Dean could feel how hard Cas was too, their cocks slotting together through the thin panties. "And what do you want? You wanna dirty me up? Wanna put your hands in my panties, and feel how hard I am for you? How wet? Wanna know you're doing this to me, making me lust, making me want you?" Cas purred. "You know I'm not innocent, Dean Winchester. You know how dirty I am, how filthy. And all for you."

  
For the first time since he was in high school, Dean came untouched, just from Cas's words and his hips, grinding against him ever still. He was honestly just happy he hadn't been wearing pants. At least he could say he came with his pants off. Goddamn, Cas had a lot stored up in his mind. "How long have you wanted this, baby?" Asked Dean, beginning to palm Cas through the panties, giving him his turn.

  
"Quite a while." Said Cas. "I imagined it might be very enjoyable. To do this with you." Cas's breaths were coming short and shallow as he neared his orgasm. "I was right." He panted.

  
Now it was Dean's turn to talk Cas's ear off. "Yeah baby boy? You like dressing up for me, makin' yourself all pretty?" Cas began to whine, low in his throat. Dean took it as encouragement. "You like how they feel? Like my hands touching you through them, knowing how easily I could rip them off and take you, right here? You want that?"

  
"Yes!" Cas's orgasm ripped out of him, eyes fluttering closed, head bent back and neck exposed. Bared to Dean. He took the opportunity to lick and suck over Cas's mark, his scent filling his nostrils. Cas panted as he came down. "You'll have to make good on that promise. I think my heat's almost over. And I'm tired." He said, slumping forward against Dean. Dean chuckled, rubbing his back. "I'm gonna get you some food and water and then you can nap, okay angel? Sound good?"

  
Cas's face was already in the pillows. "Yes Dean." He murmured. "Thanks. And did you really mean that I could keep the panties?" Asked Cas excitedly.

  
Dean pressed a kiss into his hair. "Of course. They're a gift." Cas made a noise of satisfaction, too tired to speak again. Dean stood up, going to get him something to eat and drink from the kitchen.

  
That night, as they slept, Dean realized how sad he'd be when he had to sleep alone tomorrow night. Cas was a comforting weight and warmth next to him. He wasn't sure why Cas insisted on going home so much, when he had Dean here to make him warm food and take baths with him. But then again, Cas probably still needed space. He hadn't felt like he was living on top of Cas these past few days, but all they'd really done was have sex. They had lots of things to do together before they made it official. What if Cas bought, like, really weird groceries.

  
All in all, as he thought about it, he couldn't really blame Cas for being cautious about this. The more he thought about it, the more reassured he was that they were doing the right thing.

  
But the more he didn't think, the more wrongness crept in. It was nameless and thinner than paper, an unknowable feeling that sat just behind him in every room, luggage he'd never packed. The weight of all the things he didn't know began to sit uneasily in his shoulders and his bones, and for now, he ignored it. But it settled in all the same, behind the veil of his conscious mind, like dust on a shelf. It sat, thin and unassuming and benign. A small layer, not even visible, not that anyone cared to look.

  
Somewhere else in town, a battered escalade pulled up to a too-large house. It was the middle of the night, and as the passengers drove downtown, they were the only ones on the road.

  
Dean and Castiel slept soundly, wrapped in each other's arms, unaware of the dust collecting, floating into the air and their lungs and hearts. It wouldn't settle for some time.

  
>

  
The next morning, Dean's alarm went off at six. Sunlight streamed through the open balcony doors, warm and inviting. Dean roused himself immediately, wanting to do one last nice thing for Cas. "Come on, sleepy head." He said, gently tugging the blankets away from where Cas had burritoed himself in them during the night. "Rise and shine. You've got school, my angel."

  
Pulling on some boxers to cover his sensitive bits, he padded into the kitchen. He flipped on the stove, setting out some pans. He quickly poured a thin layer of oil into one, pulling a bag of shredded potatoes out of the fridge and packing a thick layer of them into the pan. Next, he started frying sausage and eggs in another pan. In the last one, the biggest one, he spread butter on the bottom before taking out the pancake mix and a bowl. He mixed in the appropriate amount of water before mixing that up and pouring some onto the pan.

  
When all was said and done and he was satisfied with his work, he piled some of everything onto plates and started his Keurig brewing coffee.

  
Setting out the coffee next to the plates, he went to go get Cas, who was washing his face in the bathroom. "What is it?" He asked, as Dean pulled him into the kitchen. When he saw what Dean was so happy about, his face visibly brightened. "Thank you. So much, Dean." He turned to kiss him, and Dean responded eagerly. "I just wanted to do something nice." Dean explained.

  
"This is perfect. I love it, it smells amazing! And I never get to eat in the morning!"  
Dean's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

  
Cas shrugged. "No one cooks for me in the morning. I usually just wait until lunch."  
Dean shook his head, maneuvering Cas into a chair. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. How the hell do you sit through class in the morning? That's crazy."  
Cas narrowed his eyes. "What, did you eat every single morning in high school?"  
"Thanks to my mom, yes." Dean retorted. "Come on, dig in!"

  
Cas did so eagerly. His heat must've left him ravenous, thought Dean. He ate even more than Dean did, and that was saying something. Then again, he always seemed to eat more than Dean. Whenever he was with Dean, he seemed to be gulping food down.  
Doesn't he eat when he's not with me? Thought Dean, scoffing at himself. Maybe I'm the only one who feeds him, that's why he's always eating. He shook his head at himself. What a crazy idea. He was sure Cas was just going through a growth spurt. Hell, he'd eaten enough for three people when he was Cas's age. He still did, sometimes.

  
When they were finished, Dean put their plates in the sink, before making sure all the doors were locked and grabbing his jacket and keys. "C'mon. I'll drop you off at school on my way to work."

  
Driving in the morning was always pretty, and today he got to watch the warm morning sunlight play over Cas's face. He could barely keep his eyes on the road. And when they got there, he made sure to kiss Cas once the cheek and once on the lips before he got out of the car. "I love you." He said.

  
"Love you too, Dean. I'll call, okay?"

  
"Okay. Have a good day."

  
Cas almost walked away before leaning in to say something else. "And Dean?"

  
"Yeah, babe?"

  
Cas smiled, bright and warm. "Thank you. For everything. I enjoyed myself immensely this past weekend."

  
Dean positively beamed the entire way to the garage. 


	5. while we're wasting air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! kinda short chapter, but warnings for booze and smoking

"We're going to the hardware store for new wrenches. Can you two keep an eye on the place for an hour?" Asked Bobby.

  
"'Course we can!" Answered Charlie. And with that, his father and Bobby got in the truck and left.

  
It was midday now, right after lunch. Dean was still on high from his weekend, and he saw cas's smile in the sunlight through the garage windows.

  
As soon as they were gone, he felt Charlie sliding him out from under the sedan he was working on. "What gives, Charlie?" He asked.

  
"Two things. One, gimme your iPod. I wanna play music while Bobby's not here to make me turn it down. And two, I wanna know about your new squeeze! Are they cute?"

  
He felt his cheeks and ears turn red. "How the hell did you know?"

  
"Because." She rolled her eyes and smiled. "You get all glowy when you're getting laid. So come on, gimme the details!" She prodded, plugging his iPod into the boom box and turning it on.

  
"I'm not gonna tell you anything, you gossip." He smirked.

  
She looked stricken, but her expression changed when the music started. It was a song he'd never heard before, much less put on his iPod. "Oh my god, you listen to Fall Out Boy?! Why didn't you tell me! What's your favorite song?!"

  
Shit. Shit. He'd taken Cas's iPod that morning, and Cas must've taken his. "Charlie, I don't listen to Fall Down Boys."

  
"Fall Out Boy." She said, offended.

  
"Whatever, just, ugh! That's Cas's iPod, I took it by mistake this morning."

  
Her face lit up. "So his name's Cas, huh? Wait, like Castiel!? Holy crap! You're dating Castiel Novak!"

  
"How did you know his last name?"

  
She wasn't even paying attention to him. "Is he super innocent? Ooh, or is he, like, super dirty? I need every detail!"

  
"Charlie! Listen, make fun of me all you want, but please don't tell anyone. We're still really new to this. Especially me."

  
Her brow furrowed, but then realization dawned on her. "Oh my god. You've never dated a guy before, have you?"

  
He shook his head. "No. I didn't even think I was bi until I met him. I'm gonna introduce him, hopefully soon, but I want them to find out from me first. Also, we've only been dating, like, two weeks."

  
"Well hey, maybe you're just a late bloomer. I was early, you know? I was the only twelve year old googling 'boobs' instead of 'dicks'."

  
He chuckled. "I know. Look, I'm not ashamed or anything. I just don't want to mess this up."

  
"You really think he's the one?"

  
"I know he is." He blurted out. After all, if he could trust anyone, it would be Charlie. "We're mates. We figured it out about right away."

  
Her eyes bulged. "That's awesome, dude! Congrats! So is he moving in with you? He's eighteen, right?"

  
"It's not that simple." He said, scrubbing his face.

  
"Why not?"

  
"Well, first of all, his family are dicks. They own the church on front street. Actually, they own a lot of churches. Guess that's why they live in a mansion. Anyway, they're super religious, and they want him to go to a Christian college before becoming a priest, joining their business, and living a celibate life." He quoted his lover exactly, in the same tone which gave an idea of boredom and displeasure.

  
"That completely blows. What's he really gonna do?"

  
"Well, I think he's gonna move in with me when he graduates. He doesn't want to up and leave like his brother did, wants to keep on some kind of good terms with them, but I don't think that's gonna happen. Oh, and another thing. He's not one of those people who's keen to just go along with their mate when they find them."

  
"Meaning...?"

  
"Meaning that he wants to fall in love. He wants to be sure, first, before he decides to stay with me. So we're kind of dating. Also meaning that if I don't do right by him, he might actually go to that college."

  
"That's rough, buddy." Said Charlie.

  
"Not really. I don't blame him. I mean, over half his family's walked out on him at some point or another, and the other half are assholes. So if I were him, I wouldn't be really eager to trust people either."

  
"I still wanna meet him. You can introduce him as a friend or whatever he's comfortable with. Has he at least met your parents?"

  
"I think so. We met through Sam. Actually, he was Sam's friend first. They were studying together, and Sam had to go to lacrosse practice, and so he asked me to take Cas home."

  
"And then you got one whiff of each other and had crazy rabbit sex in the back of your car."

  
"Actually, yeah. And then I invited him back to my place, and we got to know each other a little. I asked him if he wanted to move in, he gave me the run down about wanting to date, so we agreed to that, and then we had more sex."

  
Charlie was grinning at him. "What?" he asked.

  
"You are in soooo deep, my friend."

  
He blushed all over again. "I am not."

  
"You are! You've got it bad."

  
He shook his head. "Wait a minute, how'd you know who he was?" He asked.

  
"I dated his sister." She said. "She taught me some Russian. It was casual, but then she broke it off. I think she was going through something. Never found out what."

  
He shrugged and slipped back under the car, brushing the dust from the bench and out of his face.

  
>

  
Sometime later, It was finally Halloween.

  
Cas looked nice, and much more casual than usual. He wore a blazer jacket over a smiths t-shirt, and jeans. Dean didn't even know he owned jeans.

  
"They're my only pair." Said Cas. He'd probably seen Dean gawking.

  
"Are you some kind of mind reader?" He asked, half joking, half curious.

  
"You were ogling me. It was quite obnoxious." Said Cas, pretending to chastise him. He reached around him, putting his hands in the (very convenient) back pockets of Cas's jeans, pulling him forward to kiss him. "You look great in them." He breathed against Cas's mouth.

  
"Mm, should we get going?" Asked Cas.

  
"Alright, alright." Said Dean, opening the door.

  
When they got to the club, Cas realized Dean hadn't been lying. Very few people were actually in costumes, and most of them were young women in very skimpy outfits. To each her own, he thought.

  
Dean also hadn't lied about the size of the party. There was an enormous amount of people there. They must have come from all over the county. He could feel his stomach begin to turn, anxiety rumbling in his system. Dean didn't seem to notice the change in him.

  
Dean, in fact, sprang out of the car as soon as it was parked. "Come on!" He said enthusiastically, opening Cas's door and taking his hand.

  
"What a gentleman!" He heard Anna's voice call out. Looking up, he saw her and her girlfriend Hester walking towards them, Gabriel in tow. Sam stepped out of the car as well.

  
He thought briefly of his sister. She wore a short black dress and black doc martens, and they made her flaming red hair pop. Her girlfriend, Hester, whom Cas had only met once, wore jeans and a t shirt, just like Gabriel. Except Gabriel had a tootsie pop in his mouth, as if it made him look cool. Cas always warned him he would get cavities from too many, and he was always brushed off.

  
"Anna, Gabe, Hester I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Dean, and his brother, Sam." Cas managed to sound casual, but it didn't dispel that first awkwardness upon meeting someone's family for the first time. He shook Anna's hand, and then Hester's, and then Gabriel's. Sam just waved.

  
"We going in?" Asked Gabe. They all started walking to the door.

  
Dean was right, they were able to sneak Sam in with the crowd. Security was very lazy, and no one cared enough to hire better bouncers. This club was made profitable solely by the fact that if was open to everyone who looked around the age of eighteen or older. And at Sam's towering height, that wasn't a long shot.

  
As soon as they were inside, music blasted loud. Cas could barely hear Dean say "Come to the bar with me, you should meet Pam!", he simply felt Dean dragging him towards the bar.

  
"I don't drink at parties!" He tried to shout over the music.

  
"No, no, you're just meeting my friend! Pam, the bartender!" Cas heard him this time, and he nodded his approval.

  
Pamela was a self proclaimed psychic. When she had met Dean in their freshman year, she had given him a prophecy. Grabbing his arm, she had said "The road your true love walks is cold. But remember, even frozen things can be thawed. Under the snow, there is always grass. And beyond the grass, there is always sand."

  
"What does it mean?" he had asked.

  
"I have no idea." She'd said, leaning back in her chair. "I only saw what I told you. But I've gotta tell you, thats the strongest prophecy I've had in a long time. You've got big things in store."

  
Six years later, and they were still great friends. Her curls bounced as she practically ran over to where Cas and Dean stood in front of the bar. "Happy Halloween!" She exclaimed, reaching over the bar to hug Dean. "Hey Pam," he said, "it's been a little while."  
She took one look at Cas, and said, "Oh, but you've been busy! What's your name? Wait, let me guess. It starts with a C. Is it Cade?"

  
"It's Castiel. You can call me Cas." He smiled.

  
"Damn! I was so close! It's nice to meet you, I'm Pam. I'm sure Dean has told you ridiculous lies about me."

  
He cocked his head and squinted, unsure whether she was serious or not. He didn't expect it when she reached a hand out to touch his face. "Ooh, you're interesting. Are you two mates?" She asked bluntly.

  
He looked at Dean, them back at her. "Uh, yeah, how'd you know?"

  
"I can feel the energy between you two, hon. It's intense. You've got to let me read your palms sometime, but now I've gotta tend bar. Tootles!" She said.

  
"Pam, can you get me a beer?" Said Dean.

  
"Sure, cup or bottle?"

  
"Cup. Thanks." He answered, turning back to Cas.

  
"That was... strange." Said Cas, trying to ignore the fact that Dean was drinking. He tried his best to dispel the tightness in his chest, to even his breathing. It wasn't that bad, yet, and he managed to relax a little. This was Dean, and he was still sober, so everything would be fine.

  
>

  
Sam really didn't know why his brother had brought him here. He wasn't a party animal, but Dean had looked so excited when he brought it up, that he thought he might as well go.

  
He tooled around for a little while, bored. He didn't want to dance, at least not alone, and he didn't want to drink, because he didn't really see the point. If he got drunk, he'd be found out for sure, and he really didn't want to be lectured tonight. Or tomorrow.   
God, he couldn't wait to leave this damn town. He wanted freedom, he wanted to be responsible for himself. But he couldn't, not yet.

  
He was stuck in that rut, that every child of their parents faces. Too old to be told what to do, but not old enough that people actually stop. He longed for what his brother had, a job and an apartment, and now, a mate.

  
He stood against the wall for awhile, feeling sorry for himself, when he caught sight of Cas's brother Gabriel doing the same thing. Misery loves company, he thought.

  
He went to one of the bars and got ahold of some margaritas. Walking over to Gabe, he handed him one. "You look as bored as me." He said, taking a sip of his.

  
"I probably am. You're Sam, right? I'm Gabe."

  
"Yeah, that's me. Man, I don't know why I let Dean talk me into this. Did Cas drag you here?"

  
"Cas? Hell no. I don't even know how Dean got him here. I thought it was gonna be fun, but I just don't feel like getting hammered tonight, you know?"

  
"Yeah man. I wish I even could. My parents'd catch me."

  
Sam watched the way Gabriel drank his margarita, all soft lips, with the occasional flick of tongue over them.

  
Gabriel looked him in the eyes. He'd caught him staring, but his lips quirked into a sultry grin. "You wanna go outside, maybe have a smoke?" He asked.

  
"Sure." Said Sam. Maybe this party wasn't so boring after all. 


	6. let me tell you some things about doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! Just so you know, this chapter is a little bit NSFW. it also has smoking, drinking, allusions to/threats of noncon, panic attacks, and self harm. quite a list, so if you think I missed something please let me know! 
> 
> I'm trying to be as careful and inclusive as i can with these warnings because I suffer from panic attacks too, so if you need me to warn for anything I'm not then comment or message me and I will do my best

Later that night, when it was dark out, Cas had begun to realize he'd made a mistake in coming here. He'd underestimated not only the amount of bar patrons here, but also the amount of alcohol Dean could consume. And Dean really liked to drink, something else new he'd discovered.

  
He tried his best to tamp down his thoughts, to keep his mind clear. He pressed closer to Dean, and Dean seemed to accept him, nuzzling at his jaw with sloppy, drunken kisses.

  
They were dancing now, Dean with a drink in his hand and his arms around Cas's neck, and Cas with his arms around Dean's waist. Dean's breath, hot on his neck, would've been arousing had he not felt so suffocated. It was suddenly too close, too much. He could feel every nerve in his body, his skin itched with every touch. Every time a stranger bumped into him, it set him on edge.

  
Dean was drinking from his third or fourth cup of beer when Cas couldn't take it anymore. "Dean, I need to leave." He couldn't be with Dean when he was like this. Not out here, not in the open, where anyone could be near them. He could feel his hands trembling, cold sweat gathering in the hollow of his throat. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted.  
"Why?" Said Dean, just barely slurring. "Baby, the party's just started."

  
He took a deep breath through his nose. "I need to go home. I'll meet you there later." He said curtly, breaking away from Dean. He took another deep breath, and then another. He could do this. He could get home. He could make it a few blocks, he told himself.  
Dean turned his head to look at him. "D'you want me to come with?"

  
He shook his head. "I'll be fine. You have fun, I'll see you later." And with that, he turned on his heel and left, restraining himself from running out the door.

  
He didn't realize until later that he'd referred to Dean's apartment as "home".

  
And then he was there, and breathing heavy against the door. He couldn't eat, his stomach was still upset. It tossed and turned and his brain fought to control it as well as itself. He couldn't think. He didn't want to think. He needed to paint.

  
>

  
Before he knew it, they were sitting in the backseat of Gabriel's escalade, with the windows rolled down. Gabe took out a Marlboro and lit it, offering one to Sam. "I've never smoked before." He said, taking it and putting it to his lips.

  
"Lemme light you, then." Said Gabriel. Sam pursed his lips around it, keeping his hands away from the end, where Gabriel held the lighter up to it. "Now take a drag." He said.

  
Sam gagged. It tasted like a barbecue, and not in a good way. Gabe just laughed. "Dude. Slower this time, breathe out the smoke."

  
Sam tried it that way, and found it a little better. And somehow, it was relaxing. "This isn't so bad." He said.

  
"Yeah. I don't do it too often. Cancer and all that, and a pack's like five fifty now."  
"Really? Cause your car smells like you do." Said Sam, grinning.

  
"Alright, so maybe I do it more than I should." Admitted Gabe. "Come on, though, what do you do that you shouldn't?"

  
They were sitting right next to each other now, and Sam could feel the heat coming off of Gabriel's thigh. Actually, he could feel it rolling off of Gabe's entire body, a combination of the booze and the cold air outside. He leaned in, missing Gabe's lips by a fraction of an inch and resulting in a very sloppy, cigarette kiss that started on his cheek and moved over and over, until their lips were working together, heated, yet calm. "A lot of things."

He finally answered. It was a lie, really. He didn't do much wrong. He'd always felt that if he messed up, even slightly, it would ruin his chances of getting into a good college, of getting out of Sioux Falls.

  
His mother thought he was a perfectionist, he knew he was just being careful.

  
And he didn't know why he wasn't being careful tonight. But it was new, and exhilarating, and he wasn't ready to give it up.

  
They didn't break the kiss for a long while, and eventually passion set in between them, making his pants tight and constricting. Gabriel took the cigarette from his hand, and dumped it out the window with his own. He would've protested, but the motion made him lean up against Gabriel, and he could feel the other man's hardness matching his own. He felt a jolt of excitement run through him when he felt Gabe pushing his jacket off of his shoulders.

  
They fumbled together, dumping their clothes on the floor of the car. At some point, they were both naked down to their boxers, and Gabriel gently pushed Sam back so that he was laying on the seat.

  
Gabriel was surprisingly gentle, pressing soft kisses to his collarbone as he panted. He didn't know what to do, but he didn't seem to need to do anything. As Gabriel made his way down his chest, he felt the heat building in his core. He was suddenly aware, again, of how constricted he was. He reached his hand under Gabe and began palming himself through his boxers, and Gabe swatted his hand away, pinning it to his side. "Easy, tiger, I'm getting there."

  
And he didn't lie. He made his way to the waistband of Sam's boxers, pulling them down to his thighs and nosing at the curve of one of his hips. He took his sweet time, when Sam's phone chimed. "Shit, can you grab that?"

  
"Its Dean. He says to text him from the Roadhouse if you need a ride home. Should I send him a picture?" Asked Gabriel, waving Sam's phone around.

  
"No!" Said Sam. He grabbed the phone and sent Dean a text back, before throwing his phone into the front seat. "Now where were we?" He asked, trying not to sound overeager.

  
Gabe threw his head back in laughter. "You a virgin, kiddo?"

  
Sam blushed. "Uh, yeah, I am."

  
"Well I'm not gonna fuck you for the first time in the back of a car. Think you deserve a bed and some more lube for that, you agree? Tell you what." Said Gabe digging around in the center console and tossing a condom to Sam. "This isn't my first rodeo. You slip that on and I'll take you for a ride, show you how it's done."

  
Sam nodded his agreement, carefully but quickly rolling the condom onto his hardening prick. Gabriel barely waited for him to finish before climbing up into his lap, pushing himself down, taking all of Sam at once.

  
Sam's vision almost blanked out. "Holy– Gabe! Oh god, you're so tight!" He was overwhelmed in the best possible way, Gabriel pushing him back against the seat cushion and sliding up and down, rocking against him and riding him like an animal. He couldn't hold out, he came almost right away. "God, Gabe!"

  
Gabe took longer, slowing down, taking his sweet time and working himself to orgasm on Sam's knot. When he came, it had gone down and he climbed off with a satisfied grin. "So, can I get your number?"

  
Sam just realized he'd had his first time. His first hook up. And it sounded like he wanted to do it again! "Sure." He said, grabbing his phone. Gabe put his number in, and Sam sent it a text, so that Gabe would have his number. "Do you, maybe, wanna hang out sometime?"

  
"Sure thing kiddo." Said Gabe, winking and pulling his pants back on. "I still have a promise to make good on, don't I? Told you I'd give it to you for real, but in a bed. I'm a man of my word, that is, if you're up for that."

  
"Yeah, totally!" Said Sam, blushing slightly at how easily he'd answered. "I mean, I don't really think my place is best. I wanna be more relaxed, I think, and not worry about getting caught."

  
"That's no problem." Said Gabe. "I've got a place in Sioux City. Whenever you've got a weekend free, we can go. It's about an hour away. In the meantime, you wanna catch a movie or something? Maybe this week?"

  
"Yeah, I'd like that." Said Sam.

  
"One more question. Since you're brother's gone, you want me to drive you home? You're gonna have to give me directions."

  
It was Sam's turn to chuckle. "That'd be great, thanks."

  
"What're you laughing at?"

  
"It's just funny. My brother's probably shtupping yours right now. And now you're taking me home."

  
Gabe cracked an even wider smile at that. "They're gonna be pissed. It's gonna be so funny. I can't wait."

  
Sam really liked Gabriel. Like really, really liked him. He was funny, and nice, and Sam was excited for their next date. He knew he'd barely sleep that night, full of thoughts of Gabriel's laugh.

  
>

  
Dean wandered aimlessly around the party for a while, suddenly sober, trying to get back into the mood. He tried to put Cas out of his mind. He was sure he'd be fine. He probably was just tired, right?

  
He couldn't convince himself. Besides, did he really want to be here all alone? No. He wanted to be at home, with his boyfriend, even if it meant he didn't party till dawn. He wondered if that's what adults were supposed to do. Prioritize other things over partying. He knew one thing for sure, he wasn't buying a briefcase anytime soon.

  
He found himself digging his keys out of his pocket and sending Sam a rushed text. 'If you need a ride later, go to the Roadhouse and text me.' He said. He pressed send, pushing past drunken couples and out the door, into the night air. If he hadn't been sober before, he was now. Damn, it was cold.

  
His apartment was only moments away, and he was there in no time at all. Sam texted him back as he arrived. 'Gabes gonna take me I'm fine.' Wait, Sam and Gabe? Oh, oh god. Ugh. He'd have to deal with that in the morning. Or the afternoon, he thought, since he would probably be hungover in the morning. Or dead, depending on how mad Cas was.

  

Was Cas mad, he wondered? Had he said something to make Cas leave?

  
Walking into his apartment, everything was in order. Cas's coat was on the couch, his shoes by the door. Maybe he'd gone to bed, thought Dean. When he walked into his room, however, he realized that wasn't the case. Cas had an easel set up, a floodlight trained on it. And in front of it he sat, painting. The only other light came in from the window, street lights painting the corners or the room in soft, electric light.

  
Usually, when Dean watched Cas paint, he looked peaceful. Collected. But tonight, it was the exact opposite. He looked disheveled, no, fuck, he looked wrecked. He swiped at the canvas like he was trying to kill it, painting red and black and all sorts of other angry, sullen colors into shapes that Dean couldn't make out. It looked like a monster of some kind. No, two monsters, fighting. One was winning. They had black wings and shapeless faces. Demons.

  
Demons, he thought, shocked. He knew Cas liked to paint biblical imagery, but usually he pained angels. Or stories, like Daniel and the lions or whatever. But why demons, and why tonight? Something nameless tugged at his skin, like breath on his neck.

 

For no reason, he found himself checking over his shoulder. But no, they were alone. Of course they were alone. It was Cas, Cas was on edge, he could see it. He was strung out and laid bare, and Dean didn't know why. And it hovered over him, something's wrong something's wrong something's wrong.

  
Maybe Cas would talk to him. "Baby? Baby, I'm home. You should get some sleep." He reached out to touch his shoulder, and Cas stiffened, never stopping his movements, severe and uncoordinated. "I have to finish this." He said, voice strained. Strained from what?

  
"So, just, take a break. Open the windows, cause it smells like chemicals in here, and come to bed. The world won't end if you don't finish it tonight." Said Dean gently. Something was odd, something about Cas. He replayed the night in his mind, realizing slowly how strange Cas had been acting. It troubled him, and he wanted desperately to make it better.

  
"You don't understand. I have to finish it. I can't live with this. I have to be better. I can be, if I can just finish this damn painting, then maybe the next one will be better. I have to be better."

  
It sounded, to Dean, like the ramblings of a maniac. His words fit perfectly with the energy around him, making his stomach turn and making him want to check the doors and windows and turn on the lights and– what the hell? Why was he so paranoid tonight? Was it Cas, was he paranoid and Dean was getting it secondhand? He'd heard of it happening between mates before. Cas's words also made something squeeze inside of him, a sickening feeling, like his stomach trying to hollow itself out. Hatred, insecurity. Could they also be coming from Cas?

  
He couldn't imagine that art was extremely easy, or even gratifying, but this was a side of Cas he hadn't seen yet. "I don't even know how to respond to that. It's better than anything I could do, okay? And I how long have you been breathing in paint fumes for?"  
"I don't know, what time is it?" Asked Cas, obviously not paying attention.

  
"Twelve thirty."

  
"So about an hour and a half." Answered Cas, never stopping, never turning to look at him.

  
He sighed and got up, pushing the windows open to let in the frigid October air. "Come to bed. No more painting, no more paint fumes, no more anything. You need to sleep."  
"I can't go to sleep!" yelled Cas, hands fisting in his own hair. His breaths were coming rapid and shallow. "I can't. Sleep." When Dean reached out to him, trying to comfort him, he all but threw himself against the wall. "Just let me finish this!" He yelled, holding his hands in front of him, poised to fight.

  
Dean's eyes went wide at the sight of Cas's hands.

  
>

  
You're fine you're fine just keepbreathingyou'refineand–

  
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

  
Cas's vision was swimming and, poised as he was, he almost toppled over when he felt Dean's arms wrap around his midsection. "Let me go!" He yelled.

  
Dean half carried, half pushed him into the bathroom and under the shower head, turning on the spray. He didn't move once it was on, cold water soaking both of them in their clothes. After a moment, his vision began to clear, his eyes focusing. He could feel his breathing slowing, muscles relaxing. It was then he realized he was shaking, and made a conscious effort to stop. "Your hands, baby. What did you do to your hands?" Said Dean.

  
Looking down at his hands, he saw what Dean had been gaping at. His fingertips were bloody and bruised, as if someone had bitten at them. "I think... I think I bit them. I remember I needed to feel them, feel something in them..." He mumbled. 'Something' really meant 'pain', but Dean didn't need to know that. Besides, he'd been trapped in a room full of paint fumes. If he told himself that enough times, he could pretend it was the reason.

  
Dean dried him off, wrapping him in warm towels, taking off his wet clothes and sitting him on the counter, caressing him the entire time. Loving and gentle and caring.

 

He was taking care of him. Taking care of Cas, now. After all he'd done tonight, leaving the party, hurting himself, throwing a tantrum, and Dean was still calm with him. Calm and loving.

  
And all he'd done was lie to him. He'd done nothing to deserve Dean's tenderness. He'd lied about being okay, and about why he'd left the party. Didn't Dean deserve the truth?  
But telling him would mean trusting him; trusting someone new. And that wasn't really in his skill set. He didn't trust anyone, save for Anna and Gabe, and sometimes Meg. But only Anna knew about this secret, and it was one of many. A blade of grass in a field of reasons that Dean was too good for him. Reasons Dean might leave.

  
He should still tell him, he thought. He needed to tell him. He'd never felt this way before, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, it would be better if Dean knew. Easier. And he deserved to know. He'd put up with Cas's antics at the party, come home after him, cleaned him up.

  
He couldn't. Instead, when Dean came back with a set of fresh, warm clothes, he smiled at him. "Thank you. I think I'm better now." He said, pulling him in for a kiss. Dean seemed to forget about everything, responding eagerly with open lips.

  
Before long, he'd pulled him into bed, their clothes long forgotten, the floodlight turned out and his paints hastily closed. They'd been opened the balcony doors to let the smell out, and as a result, the cold air drenched them. They clung to each other's warmth, drowning in it. Only, Cas felt something stopping him. Reality began to sink in, and he couldn't shake it back off. He couldn't. He couldn't do this.

  
He felt Dean's length poking him in the hip, but he was still flaccid. As Dean began to turn him over, kissing his neck and spreading his legs, he felt his chest tighten. When his eyes were open, he saw Dean, loving and tender and writing on top of him, but when he closed them, he smelled liquor and saw darkness. The lush feeling of Dean's skin replaced by fabric, a suit, harsh and stiff. And he couldn't separate the two. "Dean, I can't do this." He said, pushing Dean's hand from between his legs. "Not now."

  
Dean stopped immediately, reaching up to cup his face. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, did I do something?" He switched to cradling Cas, stroking his face with one hand and his back with another.

  
He wanted to lie. It would be so easy. So easy. I'm too tired, Dean. I'm just not in the mood, Dean. It's fine, Dean, let's just go to sleep. But he couldn't get the words out. He couldn't get any words out. A painful lump had formed in his throat, cutting off his words, and giving him away.

 

"It's not you." He managed to croak out, fighting himself to keep calm. But Dean was making it so difficult, looking at him with those big green eyes, searching his soul. He knew something was wrong, Cas was sure. He was also sure he couldn't lie, not to Dean. He deserved better. Trust, at this point, was his only real option.

  
"Okay. Did something happen?" Asked Dean, still stroking him, petting his hair.

  
"Yes. Yes and no. Well, technically yes, but it was long before we met." Said Cas.

  
Dean's brow furrowed. "You can tell me anything." He said, thumbing over Cas's cheek, over the light flush on his skin, just visible in the pale light from the bathroom door and from outside.

  
"Do you remember a gala, last Christmas? Supposedly a church fundraising auction?" Asked Castiel.

  
Dean though for a moment. "Yeah, your family has one every year, right? Always kind of pretentious?"

  
"You are correct. They are very obnoxious, and for this reason, I usually don't go." Said Cas, taking a deep breath. "But last year, Raphael made a point of saying he wanted Anna and I to attend. Something about being a 'model family.' Occasionally people will start asking questions about us, and he has us make an appearance to dispel them." He explained.

  
Dean nodded, and Cas continued. "Anna, of course, didn't attend, but I did. My plan was to go for maybe an hour, and then leave. But somehow I ended up with a coke and rum, and then another." He paused to take a shaky breath, and looked at Dean.

  
"Had you ever had a drink before?" Asked Dean, slightly concerned.

  
"No." Said Cas, turning his eyes away, slightly ashamed. He'd never been one for partying, and after that night, he'd never done it again. Not until tonight, at least.

  
"Dude. Kind of a rough thing to start with. Most people try, like, a beer or a margarita first. Coke and rum, though?" Said Dean.

  
"I didn't order them. Someone ordered them and had them sent to me." Cas said, waiting to see how Dean reacted.

  
Dean visibly bristled. "Who?" he asked, jealousy hinting in his voice.

  
_"The name's....... nice to meet you, doll."_

Cas shuddered at the memory. "I don't remember his name. It was something weird, it might've started with an A. But I... He came up and started talking to me, Raphael was there at one point, but he was drunk too, at least I think he was. The whole night is blurry. The point is, no one ever told me not to take drinks from other people." Said Castiel, trying his best to be as invisible as possible. Maybe if he could just disappear, they would never have to have this talk, and they could pretend tonight had gone well. Like he would've liked it to. 

 

"What happened?" Dean asked, keeping his voice as level as possible, but moving closer to Castiel. He knew Dean could see him shrinking in on himself, eyes turning red and glassy, though he tried to hide it. He always was a bad liar. Bad at keeping his emotions to himself, always letting them get the best of him.

  
"It's not what you're thinking. Well, not exactly." Cas started, voice small and placid. He didn't want to speak. He didn't want to breathe. He wanted the blackness dancing around the streetlights and the bed frame and their bodies to envelop them, pulling them under and drowning out the funeral his life was becoming, Dean just another mourner gathering to hear stories of the past, as if it mattered at all.

 

He spoke again. "Whatever he put in the drink didn't work all the way. I figured out what was happening, but by then he'd dragged me into a closet. He was trying to pin me down, but he'd left the door open by mistake. And then Anna came home, and she saw me trying to get away, and she hit him with a broom handle until he let go."

  
Dean moved to wrap his arms around him, drawing him close. "Oh, god! Cas, were you okay?" He asked, sounding horrified. Even more so than Anna had been, and she'd cried, screaming foul language in Russian. His sister tended to switch back to her native tongue when she was stressed.

  
"I was fine." Cas assured him. And then he remembered the rest. "He didn't even get my clothes off." And then he told Dean the rest. "But the thing was... oh god, Dean, it was so weird. He wasn't angry or anything. He didn't even follow me. He just laughed. He laughed when I ran away."

  
Dean brushed a thumb over Cas's cheek, wiping at the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. "Is that why you don't drink at parties?" He asked, sympathetically. "Is that why you didn't like it when I did?"

  
"Yeah." Cas said, nodding. "I'm usually fine if it's just with a few people, and I know all of them, but when we're at parties like that? It makes me really uncomfortable." He sighed.

  
"Then I won't do it anymore."

  
Cas's head popped up. "Really? You'd do that?"

  
Dean came even closer, putting his arms around Cas's waist and pulling him in to kiss him. "Of course I will. I'm not gonna make you feel bad every time we go to a party. That's a shitty thing to do." He pressed another soft kiss to Castiel's lips. "Speaking of shitty things to do, I'm gonna kill that bastard if I ever get near him. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

  
Cas smiled softly. "Don't apologize, there was nothing you could do. 'Sides. Now I have you to kick ass for me when I'm too tired to do it myself." He mused, tangling his fingers in Dean's hair. "And I can kick some serious ass, Dean Winchester."

  
"We'll see about that." Said Dean, pressing his lips to Cas's neck and pressing their hips flush. He wrapped himself around Cas, pulling the blankets up over them. Cas, for the first time that night, felt incredibly comfortable. Safe, even. And strangely, he felt relieved. Like a weight had been taken off of him. He leaned into Dean's neck, sighing in contentment.


	7. for love has destroyed our homes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is NSFW and contains panic attacks. Also, the hymn is called Elegy for Dunkirk, and its on the atonement soundtrack

The time was coming near.

  
October had come and gone, the sun leaving with it, for the most part. Thanksgiving was just around the corner, his least favorite holiday. He would be forced, for appearance's sake, to attend some pretentious charity event. He despised it, but he did it every year, smiling for the newspaper cameras as he handed socks to old people or soup to the homeless. It bored him to no end.

  
But this time, he was on edge. He knew he shouldn't be. Everything was in order, was it not? They'd kept their plan as secret as possible, and Raphael wasn't one to blab. He would probably talk nonstop once they were through with it, but not before. Caution would win out over pride. At least, he hoped.

  
Pulling up to the house, he opened the garage door and parked his car inside. He stepped out and smoothed his suit. It was white, the only color he ever wore, specially tailored for him. Step lapel, two buttons, perfect. That was one of his favorite luxuries: he always had the perfect suit.

  
The house was empty, as always. It would send a chill down most people's spines; the large, empty caverns of the house. A house that felt haunted, not by the souls of the dead, but by the souls of the still living. He, on the other hand, relished in it.

  
Walking through the quiet floors, he found Raphael in the library, standing in front of the window. "Brother!" He said, with forced cheer.

  
"Lucifer." Sighed his brother. "I suppose you are not here on a social call?"

  
"No, unfortunately I am not." He began. "The winter will soon begin to settle in. And I must ask, is everything in order?"

  
"Yes." His brother stated cooly. He was almost pacified, but then Raphael continued. "Except for one tiny thing. But I think you can see to it."

  
"What's happened?" He asked.

  
"Nothing's happened. And if you do your job, nothing will. I simply need you to see someone, and discern whether he shall give us trouble."

"Who?"

  
Raphael's mouth twisted into a chilling grin. "His name is Dean Winchester. He frequents the Roadhouse Bar on Main."

  
>

  
He didn't go home. Why would he? If he wanted to sit in an empty room, he would have just stayed at Dean's while he went to work. No, instead he went to the church.

  
He sat in the back, in the very last pew, just like always. The choir practicing at the front paid him absolutely no attention. He loved listening to them, and today they did not disappoint. They sang an old hymn, probably an elegy. The cello played in time with them as well, as did the pianist. It was beautiful and soft and sweet. He thought it must be about dying, about deliverance. He tried to keep his mind clear, but eventually his thoughts wandered back to his dilemma. His only real problem, the one named Dean Winchester.

  
He could've dealt with Dean being bad to him. He could've handled it if he was thoughtless or careless, if he was wicked or volatile. But he had been none of those things. He had touched Castiel like he was something holy, smiled at him like an old friend. He'd fed him from his table and he'd done it gladly. Multiple times. Every time.

He'd taken care of him, something Cas wasn't used to. He hadn't enjoyed that comfort since he was very very young, almost lifetimes ago. Since he was innocent, innocent and deserving. Since his father was alive. And he hadn't dare asked for it since.

  
He began to feel incredibly guilty. Guilty for going to Dean's house at all, ever, for taking from him, for burdening him. He didn't need to burden Dean too. He didn't want to weigh him down.

  
Goddamnit, this was what he'd been afraid of. That Dean would be a really good guy, and that he'd have to leave. Because Dean was truly too good to be true. People like him didn't have people like Dean as their mates.

  
But he knew now that he'd never be able to leave Dean. He'd never have the strength to do it, not when Dean was so loving.

  
He cursed the world all over again. For, if Dean had been a crueler man, he'd be gone in an instant. If _he_ were a crueler man, he'd be gone. But he was too weak to rip Dean open like that, after how kind he'd been, without even knowing it. He was too weak to tear himself from Dean, lock himself away like he really ought to. As he always had, for it was only just.

  
The choir picked up in volume, calling him back to them. _Take from our souls the strain and stress, and let our ordered lives confess, the beauty of thy peace, the beauty of thy peace._

  
He thought of his father, briefly. In the hours of the funeral, he'd wondered if his father was in heaven. And every day after, he knew his father was, and that he'd never be.

  
_Breathe through the heats of our desire, thy coolness and thy balm. Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire, speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire. The choir sang, hopeful and gentle._

  
No longer content to sit in the church, he got up and left, no more sure of himself than he'd been when he first walked in.

  
He was sleeping with Dean. And sooner or later, Dean would see something about him and begin to wonder. Be it an old scar or a new, purpling bruise, he would wonder. He'd wonder and he'd ask questions and, sooner or later, he'd find out. He'd know everything one day, and that scared Castiel more than anything else in the world. Because his plan had failed. He could no longer keep his distance, or hope for Dean to find someone else. Dean wouldn't leave him, and Dean wouldn't force him out. Not yet, at least.

  
So why didn't he just move in with Dean? If he did it now, he thought, he might never have to tell him a damn thing.

  
He held on to that thought for a brief moment, just to feel the ecstasy of it. But he knew it could never be more than a thought. Because he'd be lying to Dean, misleading him, and he couldn't do it. He'd burden him, and one day he would know.

  
And so, eventually Castiel went home. As he always did, to whatever awaited.

  
>

  
It was starting to get cold and dry outside, and they were having to keep the windows shut in the garage. The winds of late fall were kicking up a lot more dust than usual. It made the town look strange, like a ghost town, everything untouched. It made Dean shiver when he thought about it for too long.

  
"Hey Charlie, do you speak any Russian?" Asked Dean, one lazy day at the garage.

  
"A little." She said, not looking away from her computer screen. "I used to date Anna, remember? Why?"

  
"Can you teach me how to say some stuff?" He asked meekly, scratching the back of his neck.

  
"Try'na impress Cas, huh?" She teased, still staring at the computer.

  
"Can you teach me, or not?" He asked, annoyed.

  
"Of course I can. What do you want to say?"

  
"Um, I don't know. What about 'angel'?" He asked.

  
"Ангел мой." She answered. Angel moy. "That's 'my angel'. Angel by itself is just 'aнгел'."

  
"What about 'I love you?"

  
She let out a low whistle. "Gettin' deep." He rolled his eyes. "'I love you' is 'Я тебя люблю' (ya tebya lyub-lyu). If you want to be really sappy, you could say 'I love you with all my heart, with all my soul', which is 'Люблю тебя всем сердцем, всей душою' (lyubb-lyu tebya vsem sertsem, vsey dushoyu)."

  
He took a moment to go over them in his mind, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen off the desk to jot them down. "What about compliments?"

  
"The real thing you need to know there is 'you are', which is Tы (ti). 'You are beautiful' is 'Ты красивая' (ti krasIvaya)."

  
"Thanks, Charlie. You rock." He said.

  
"I know I do." She grinned. "Not stop bothering me, Steve and Bucky are about to kiss."   
Realizing why she hadn't looked away from the computer the entire time, he shook his head and jogged back into the garage.

  
>

  
Sam was a little nervous, to say the least. But he was also excited. Mostly excited, really. He'd packed everything he'd need for the weekend, he'd even double checked. And before long, he heard the hum of Gabe's engine as he pulled into the driveway. His parents weren't home, so he locked the door behind him as he ran out to meet Gabe, practically tripping over himself as he did.

  
As soon as they got out of town, he rolled down the window so he could breathe in the fresh, mountain air. It was beautiful out here. The gorgeous, rolling hills, the lush green trees. Nothing at all like the air at home. Especially lately, as it had been so dry and dusty. You could almost see it in people's eyes back there. He was glad to be here, here with Gabriel.

  
They'd gone on a date or two since halloween night, and now they were going to spend the weekend at Gabriel's apartment in Sioux City. A first, for them. Best of all Gabriel had said he'd top him once they were there, another first for them. Gabe was playing down how excited he was, but Sam knew. He knew how badly Gabe wanted to make it good for him, make it special, and he knew it would be. Gabriel could act tough and macho all he wanted, but Sam knew that deep down, he cared about people. A hell of a lot.

  
Sam wondered if they were mates. He was an alpha, after all, but Gabe was a beta. It could be really, really hard to tell with betas sometimes, as they didn't give off pheromones, nor did they respond to them. You just had to give it time.

  
Watching the mountains pass, Sam let hope bloom in his chest. If he had a mate out there, he wouldn't mind it being Gabriel. Not one bit.

  
>

  
Gabriel drove with knuckles white on the wheel. It was the only way he drove these days. Sometimes he felt as though it was how he went through life, white-knuckled and wide eyed, always checking his blind spots.

  
He couldn't remember a time before he was worried. Worried constantly. He worried about nearly everything, and recently, he'd had even more to worry about. He sometimes felt like he was being choked, dust rising from the earth and making it hard to breathe.   
He counted the minutes, the seconds until they reached the apartment. Would he be safe? Would Sam be safe? Would everyone else? What was to keep the dust from pulling them under too, he wondered?

  
He couldn't protect them all.

  
He felt the gravel under him more acutely the longer he drove. The rocks and sand his car kicked up seemed to chase him down the highway, a formless cloud.

  
Maybe if he stopped moving, did nothing, the world would stop alongside him.

  
>

  
Sam should've known it wouldn't take long for them to get to the sex part.

  
He and Gabe had arrived just in time for lunch. They stopped at a sandwich place for meatball subs, and after eating, they'd watched some television, a little too sluggish for hanky-panky just yet. But they hadn't even made it through an entire Breaking Bad yet, and Gabriel was already pressing sloppy kisses into his neck. He eventually became too arousing for Sam to pay attention to Aaron Paul any more, and so he grabbed the remote and flicked the TV off. "We gonna do this?" he asked.

  
"Hell yeah we are." Said Gabriel.

  
"Then I think we should take it to the bedroom, huh?" Said Sam. That made Gabe grin even wider, and Sam had to resist the urge to pick him up and carry him in there. Instead, they danced around each other, leaving a trail of clothing from the couch to the bed.

  
Gabe's fingers were wonderful, and they were everywhere. Tracing patterns on Sam's stomach and thighs, ghosting over his cock and swelling knot.

  
Next thing he knew, Gabe had flipped them. He was leering over him now, Gabriel on his back underneath. "We're gonna need lube, and a condom. Top drawer in the bathroom." He said. Sam practically sprinted to get them, racing back to bed.

  
"Now." Said Gabriel. "You ever fingered yourself?"

  
"Uh, um." Sam had momentarily lost the ability to form complete sentences. "Yeah, I have."

  
"Good, that's what I'm gonna do. If I don't stretch you open, you won't really get to enjoy this." Said Gabe. He sat up, pushing Sam gently back down and spreading his legs. Next, he squirted a generous amount of lube into his hands, warming it up and spreading it on the inside of Sam's thighs, drawing needy whimpers from his lips.

  
He began with the tip of one finger, pushing it in and gently moving it around. Then another. And another, scissoring him open at an agonizingly slow pace. "You ready?" He asked.

  
"Mm hmm." Sam nodded, hands already grasping at the sheets.

  
Gabriel was just as slow and careful as he'd been with his fingers. The condom was a little cold at first, but it warmed right up. He started with just the tip, sliding in slowly, giving Sam time to adjust. Within a few moments, he'd adjusted, and began to grind his hips, thrusting forward into Gabe's.

  
Gabe picked up the pace, thrusting in time with Sam. It was easier than he'd expected, and it felt extraordinary. Every nerve was on fire. He felt so full, so wonderful. He came in minutes, clenching down on Gabe's cock and ripping the orgasm from him too.

  
And after that, his energy left him in a rush, flowing from his limbs. He sank back into the bed, sweaty and sated, and Gabriel laid on top of him. "That." He panted. "Was awesome."

  
"You're a natural, babe." Said Gabe.

  
He could even murmur a response before he was out.

  
>

  
Sam was out for a few hours. Pretty typical, as he'd just had his ass pounded for the first time in all of ever.

  
He was proud, he really really was. He and Sam were probably mates, after all. He'd been so perfect, so strong and graceful and amazing. It had been amazing, for him at least. Sam too, or so he said.

  
He'd be basking in the afterglow, if he didn't feel like he was _bursting_.

  
It came to him every time he let his thoughts wander. That dust, that darkness. Looming, looming, consuming him, eating his heart and fraying his nerves and pumping his blood at the speed of sound. It was behind him, it was over his shoulder. It was in the corners of his vision and in every ring of his cell phone, and it drowned him.

  
Panic attacks, Baz had told him. That was what that feeling was. But then why did it feel so alive?

  
It was alive. It had sandy hair and a white suit and fists. It lived in his past and his now, and if he didn't deal with the dust soon, his future.

  
But he didn't know what to do. Every road was dark, fraught with danger. He held a life in his hands, and he wasn't qualified to. He was lost and alone.

  
If only he wasn't so alone in this.

  
Maybe... Maybe Sam would understand.

  
He was lost in thought when Sam began to stir. His voice pulled Gabriel out of his head. "Everything okay?"

  
He took a deep breath, feeling the dryness in his lungs. "Can I tell you something?"

  
"Anything." Said Sam, sitting upright.

  
"You can't tell anyone else. This is serious, and I... I don't know what to do."

  
"I won't. Promise."

  
Another breath. He closed his eyes, just feeling Sam's presence near him. "It's about my brothers."


	8. we cannot recall our parents' faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for abuse, graphic depictions of violence, and PTSD-like flashbacks. Also mentions of death and funerals, as well as slurs and self hatred

"Do you want food from Ellen's? I can run down and get us some." Said Dean. Cas had a nasty headache, and thus, he'd been laying on the couch all afternoon. It been nice and all, but it was getting to be dinner time, and Dean knew Cas was in no shape to go out.

  
"Sure." Said Cas. "Thank you."

  
  
"Burger and fries, right?" Asked Dean. There wasn't a day that went by that Cas didn't want a cheeseburger.

  
  
Cas smiled softly. "Yes, please."

  
  
He leaned down to kiss him on the forehead before going to the door. He put on his shoes and his coat, grabbing his hat and gloves and locking the door behind him. He didn't take his car keys, opting instead to walk the few blocks to Ellen's. He was sure traffic would be terrible in the aftermath of the icy rain that had been coming down intermittently. It seemed to have stopped for now, and that was good at least.

  
  
Speaking of icy rain, he wondered if Cas had a hat or gloves. He'd never seen him wearing any, and it was getting colder out. He thought that maybe he could get him an extra pair, or grab an old one from his parents' house.

  
Cas, cas puzzled him. He didn't make sense, not at all. Cas's family was supposedly rich, and yet they let him walk around in the same coat and few pairs of ill-fitting clothes every day? Did they just not care? Even Anna and Gabe didn't do that, and Gabe was cut off. And they obviously cared about him, or maybe just that he went into their business. He was sure that was what the whole college thing was about. Something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

  
But then again, maybe he was just paranoid. Maybe Cas had just forgotten to buy a hat and gloves. He could still pick him up some things, just to make sure he didn't keep getting sick.

  
When he got to the bar, he noticed immediately how full it was. He'd almost forgotten it was a friday night. He hoped he could get food quickly, with Cas at home waiting.

  
Ellen noticed him almost immediately. "Meeting Cas here?" She asked.

  
  
He shook his head. "Nah, he's back at my place with a headache. I think he might be getting a cold. I came to get us both some food."

  
"A headache, riiight." Interjected Jo. "Guess you're not gettin' laid then." She wagged her eyebrow at him.

  
  
He pretended to scowl at her. "Believe it or not, Joanna, I am actually able to put someone else's needs above my dick's." He said.

  
  
"Watch your mouths, both of you." Complained Ellen. "This 's a family establishment."

  
"Sorry, Ellen." He muttered, grinning. "Can I get two burgers and some fries, please?"

  
  
"Sure thing, Dean." She said, walking into the kitchen. Jo left also, going around to tables to take some orders. With that, he sat down in the bar stool he'd been standing over. After a moment, the man sitting next to him spoke. "You Dean Winchester?"

  
  
He didn't sound like he was from around here. His voice was cut and dry, no hint of a drawl to his words. Dean looked over at him. He was about his height, with sandy brown hair, and eyes that were just a little too sunken in. He wore an expensive looking white suit with a red rose in the lapel. And Dean had never seen him before in his life, which was saying something.

  
"Who's asking?" He countered the question.

  
The man gestured with his hands, opening them up as if to shrug. "Come on, I was being friendly!"

  
  
"Who are you?" Asked Dean, still not answering. Why did some fucking stranger want to know who he was? He wasn't about to answer to a random douche in an overpriced suit.

  
The man rolled his eyes, heaving a dramatic sigh. "If you really must know, my name is Lucifer. Lucifer Novak." He held out a hand to Dean.

  
  
Dean didn't take it. He didn't trust this man. Cas rarely talked about his family, but he hadn't liked what he'd heard. He eyed the man carefully, trying to seize him up. "Why are you here? What do you want with me?" He asked, down to business.

 

  
Lucifer dropped his hand, the condescending smirk never leaving his face. It almost made Dean want to punch it off. "I'm just here to meet you, honestly. Cassie's sort of neglected to introduce me. And after all, I need to make sure the guy plowing my brother isn't a total asshole."

 

Dean felt his pulse quicken. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Anyone could see that he didn't really give two shits about Cas, that that wasn't his intention here. It was evidenced in the fact that Cas had never talked about him, never brought him around. Dean knew that if this guy really mattered to Cas, he would've met him already.

  
  
Cas had kept him away from this guy, and he was just now beginning to wonder why. "Cas is a grown up." He growled. "And you need to leave." He fought to be calm, especially when the guy chuckled at him.

  
  
The man picked up a cane that Dean hadn't noticed sitting next to him at the bar. Dean could see immediately that it was more of an accessory than a need. It was solid black with a silver snake head at the top, with ruby eyes and devil's horns. "Say no more, I'm gone." Said Lucifer. "I just came by because, well, I really wouldn't want anything to happen. To my brother, I mean." His voice was laced with deceit and mockery.

  
  
Before Dean could take a swing at him, or even completely register what had happened, he left, leaving Dean fuming and sputtering in his place. "What was that about?" Asked Ellen, coming out of the kitchen with a paper bag. She handed it to him, and he handed her some cash for it.

  
  
"Nothing." He answered.

  
  
He practically ran home, and he was heaving and panting by the time he got to his front door, strangely relieved to find it still locked. What the hell had gotten into him? Of course it was still locked. He was being so paranoid today.

  
  
When he finally got inside, he felt himself instantly relax when Cas was on the same place on the couch as he'd been when he left. "Dean?" He asked. "Are you alright?"

  
  
He locked the door behind him, grabbing some plates from the cabinet. "Did you tell your family about us? You said you weren't going to." He tried to keep his voice as passive as possible, not wanting Cas to think he was angry. Well, he wasn't very angry, just worried. And he certainly wasn't angry with him. He wasn't sure exactly what he was angry at. Probably Lucifer, though. And himself, for letting Lucifer get a rise out of him.

  
  
"No, of course not. Not besides Gabe and Anna." Said Cas, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. "Why, did something happen?"

  
  
He shook his head, bringing the food and the plates over to the couch. "I met Lucifer." At the shocked look on Cas's face, he kept going. "He said he wanted to make sure I wasn't an asshole. Or something like that. That he 'didn't want anything to happen.' He wouldn't, like, hurt you because of this, right?" Asked Dean.

  
  
Cas rolled his eyes, taking his burger and leaning back in his chair. "Of course not. Lucifer just likes to feel powerful. He plays games with people's minds. He wants you to be on edge." Said Cas.

  
  
"You've got some family." Said Dean, joining him with his food on the couch.

  
  
"Tell me about it." Said Cas.

  
  
An hour or so later, when the sky was black and it was drizzling again, Cas asked to be taken home. "I've got to go tonight." He said, "But I can see you tomorrow if you'd like."

  
  
"Of course I would." Said Dean, tilting his head to kiss Cas's nose. Cas had been laying in his arms, their plates on the coffee table and a blanket over them. "I love seeing you." He said softly, watching a pink blush spread across Cas's cheeks. He almost didn't want to leave their warm nest, as nice as it was. Eventually, though, they got up and walked down to Dean's car.

  
  
He'd dropped him off at the end of the driveway, as usual, with a kiss goodbye. And if Cas lingered a little longer than usual, he pretended not to notice. He vowed again to get Cas something warm to wear, as it was getting colder and colder outside.

  
  
With that his last real thought, he went home and flopped onto his bed, still clothed. He fell asleep almost instantly.

  
  
>

  
Cas went to his room as soon as he got home. He took his coat off and set his things down, staring at the raindrops falling outside his window. He saw no one on the way in, as usual, but he knew they were here. He breathed as deeply as he could, trying to steady the thrumming in his veins, knuckles white on the windowsill as he pressed his forehead to the glass.

  
  
Before long, trouble found him.

  
  
He didn't have to look at the door to know who it was when he heard it click open, and then click shut. "What are you doing?" Came a curious voice, cold and mocking.

  
  
He sighed, but didn't answer. Lucifer didn't really care, after all. But he didn't relent either. "I asked you a question."

  
  
"I'm not doing anything, Lucifer. As usual." He replied tersely, still not turning to face his brother. He didn't have to. There was an icy hand on his collar in a moment, flipping him around and pinning his back against the window.

  
  
"I met your boy-toy today. Quite a catch, I must say. I'm a little jealous." He said, still trying to get a rise out of Cas. "I know." He replied.

  
  
Lucifer's smirk turned into a scowl. Apparently this wasn't as fun as he thought it'd be. "You really think you're good enough for him? You might not get out much, Castiel, but I do. Half the women in this town would be killing for your place right now. And yet you leave him alone all night? How do you know he's not out chasing tail right now?"

  
  
Honestly, he didn't know. But he refused to be baited. Lucifer was describing himself, not Dean. Dean wasn't like that. "I don't." He said.

  
  
Lucifer released his grip on him, pacing the floor in front of him. "So naïve. If only you'd been born alpha, you might have half a brain when it comes to these things." When he didn't reply, Lucifer continued. "Our mother would've despised you, you know. Our father too, if he'd lived long enough to see you present. A bitch in a line of alphas. You're a disgrace to them, don't you know? A mark on a perfect record."

  
  
He stiffened, trying to keep his face blank. He couldn't. Lucifer knew him too well. He knew exactly how to make him break. "Why are you here? Why are you doing this?"

  
  
His question was answered with a slap in the face, so hard he fell back against the air conditioner, losing his footing and tumbling to the ground at his brother's feet, unable to help letting a soft cry escape him.

  
  
"I wasn't finished speaking." Said Lucifer. "I was going to say, you've gotten quite cozy with your alpha, haven't you? Doesn't he know? Haven't you told him yet, what a mediocre little disaster you are? Because if you don't want to, I gladly will."

  
  
"Leave Dean out of this." He spat. "He doesn't need to know anything. Just leave me be, I'll be out of your hair soon enough."

  
  
It earned him a swift kick in the stomach, so hard that his vision blacked out for a moment. He thought he might vomit from the sheer pain. While he was reeling on the carpet, his brother spoke again. "Would you shut up? You're nothing but an insolent child. Do you honestly expect me to obey you? I'll do as I please."

  
  
He still couldn't speak, pain clogging his throat and making him gag as if it were an object, a solid thing, shoved into his windpipe and sticking to his mouth. His brother began to pace once again. "So you haven't yet told him, I see? I wonder why? Have you finally learned your place, learned not to aim too high?" Lucifer seemed to stumble upon this realization with the fervor of a man discovering gold, and with all the secrecy. He looked at Cas out of eyes narrowed in haughty victory. "You're afraid for him to see you. This you, punished and defeated as you are. You're afraid he'll turn and run."

  
  
Lucifer, seeing his opportunity and making the most of it, turned to the door. "You're probably right. I'd run away too." He said, closing the door behind him. Cas heard him insert a nail into the outside lock. It would remain closed until he removed the nail, a trick he'd learned long ago.

  
Inside the room, Cas slowly began to stand. His hands were shaking, his brain fogged and cloudy from pain and panic. He couldn't stay here tonight. He'd considered it, briefly, but he couldn't do it. He'd never sleep. Dean would wonder where he was the next day. Dean. He could go to Dean. He had concealer in his bag, for situations like these. He could hide the mark on his face, and go to Dean's.

  
  
He set about it, blending in the sticky makeup as best as he could with his skin. He was practiced at it, simply because it didn't do well for him to show up to school with unexplained bruises. It only led to questions he couldn't answer.

  
  
When he was finished, he didn't even go to the door. He knew Lucifer had locked it, he always did. Instead, he unlatched his window, sliding into the roof, then the hedges, then climbing down onto the ground. It was a bit difficult with his bag on and the roof being wet, but again, he was experienced.

  
  
It was then, standing in the wet, muddy grass, that he took a deep breath before heading to Dean. He wanted so badly to go to sleep, to lie down in the woods and let the rain soak him through, let it pool in his mouth and nose and lungs and carry him away. But he didn't. He walked the few miles it took, letting his thoughts leave him, hoping Dean would still be awake at this hour.

  
  
>

  
Dean woke again sometime later to his phone ringing. "Dean? Can I come over?"

  
  
"Guh?" He mumbled. "Cas? Didn't I, like, just drop you off?" How much time had passed? Had he fallen asleep in his clothes? Fuck, he had.

  
  
"You don't have to come get me. You dropped me off two and a half hours ago, and in that time, I left again and walked through the woods. I'm almost to the Roadhouse."

  
  
That made him jump out of bed, scrambling for his shirt and pants. "You walked through the fucking woods? At night? Are you suicidal?"

  
  
"No." Said Cas, sounding annoyed. "Look, can I please come over? If not, I understand, I can get a room at the motel, I think I have some cash."

  
  
"No, no, babe, you can come over. It's fine, I promise, this is just a little weird. Are you okay? Did something happen?" He was still scrambling to get his bearings. He flipped on the lamp, folding the blankets back on the bed.

  
  
"Nothing out of the ordinary." Said Cas, sounding strained and hollow. "I just needed to leave. I'm sorry about this. I really am."

  
  
"Sweetheart, it's fine. It's like I said, my door's always open. Are you sure you don't want me to come get you?" He briefly considered making coffee, but decided not to. Maybe he'd get to sleep in a few minutes, after all. That'd be a dream.

  
  
"I'll be fine, it's only a few more blocks. I'm passing the Roadhouse now."

  
  
Within five minutes, he heard a knock at his front door. There stood Cas, soaking wet and looking awful. He stared at Dean with big, blue eyes. "Hello, Dean."

  
  
"Is it fucking raining?! Cas, why didn't you let me come get you!? Ellen would've let you into her house, she knows you."

  
  
"It's fine, I don't really mind all that much. I wanted the fresh air." Said Cas, not looking him in the eyes. Fresh air his ass. Dean shook his head. "Come inside and take off your wet clothes. Just leave them by the door, I'll wash them tomorrow." He turned and went to the closet to get a towel. When he came back, Cas was standing there, naked to his boxers and still dripping. And something strange was dripping down his cheek. It almost looked like... makeup?

  
  
"Cas, are you wearing makeup?" He reached out part of the towel to wipe at it, as Cas tried to bat his hand away. Cas yelped and recoiled as a smear of tan liquid came off on the towel. "Please don't touch it." He whimpered, still not meeting Dean's eyes.

  
  
Dean was too tired to try and coax an answer out of him, or some lengthy explanation. He moved to Cas's other side, turning his jaw so that he could see the cheek better. Where the makeup had been, there was a purpling bruise in the shape of a hand. It covered his entire cheek, and it looked like it might start to swell.

  
  
His irritation turned to seething rage, and he tired his best to bite it down. No one had the fucking right, not even him. No one at all. Gritting his teeth, he growled. "Who did this to you? And if you tell me you ran into a wall, so help me god, I will–" he didn't really have an ending to that threat, but Cas interrupted him.

  
  
"Lucifer." Sighed Casitel, eyes glassy. "Look, it's no big deal, alright? This happens all the time."

  
  
Wrong thing to say. " _WHAT!?"_ Dean yelled. He immediately regretted it, as Cas flinched back against the door. "Please don't yell at me." Said Cas, pleading.

  
  
He couldn't even process this. It happened all the time?! No fucking way. Why did he stay there?! Dean realized, after a moment, that him being angry wasn't helping Cas calm down. And he was obviously agitated. So he took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

  
  
"I'm sorry for yelling. But how the hell is that not a big deal? What do you mean 'it happens all the time'? Doesn't anything about that seem wrong to you?" He said, as calmly as possible. It came out clipped and much colder than he'd intended.

  
  
Cas, shook his head, avoiding the question. "Usually it doesn't bother me. Lucifer, he's angry. Always. He does these things simply because he likes to fight. It's like I told you, Dean, he plays games with people. He likes them to be afraid, to react. And Raphael, he likes to be powerful. He does it because it makes him think he's powerful. Zachariah and Uriel, they don't really bother me at all. They only follow the other two's orders. Usually, they get bored after a little while and leave me alone."

  
  
Dean tried to push past how fucked up all that was, cataloguing it away in his mind, filing it under People To Kill And Reasons To Kill Them. "So what happened tonight?" He asked carefully.

  
  
And at that, Cas started to cry. Not bawling, nor silent, nor weeping. He shook with it, as if he was trying to keep it in, but his rapid breathing gave him away. He was breathing fast and shallow, and Dean worried he might pass out. "Easy, easy." Dean soothed, pulling him into the other room and onto the couch, into his lap.

  
  
He took the throw off of the back, wrapping it around Cas and moving his hand up and down his back. "It's alright, baby, you can tell me. I'm here, it's just me."

  
  
"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this. I don't want to drag you into all of this; you don't need it. I'm sorry, I wanted to be happy for you. Shit, shit, I'm so sorry."

  
  
Dean's mind was spinning around and around now, an endless cycle of What The Fuck and Something About This Is Fucked Up. "Cas, sweetheart," he started slowly. "What are you talking about?"

  
  
Cas took a shaky breath. "I wanted to be happy for you. I don't want you to leave, I don't want to bring you down with me. Like I do to everyone."

  
  
The words sounded strange coming from Cas's mouth, foreign. "Who told you that?" He breathed. This boy in front of him, so kind and loving, honestly believed that he drove people away. Because he wasn't perfect, wasn't happy and shining one hundred percent of the time. Dean knew damn well he didn't come up with that himself.

  
  
"I–" Cas started, when it all came back, spilling over the edges of him like water into a sinking ship. Pure and raw and terrifying, he was breaking around the edges, never built to keep all that in which had been placed upon him. He'd come undone in Dean's arms so many times, but never had it been so painful or unwanted. He shook apart with it. And then he wasn't there at all.

  
  
>

  
_The church had been cold, but the house was colder. St. Petersburg in winter was beautiful at times, but tonight the sky had not snowed. It had rained instead, frozen rain. Pouring down on them, the heavens crying for their loss. Their final loss. They were orphans now, children, living in a cold house. An empty, cold house. For they'd packed their bags._

_  
  
He sat on the floor, in what used to be his bedroom. He could see the tape stains on the walls where his posters and photographs had been. Where would they go now? What would happen to him? Would he ever see this tone again, his school his friends?_

_  
  
If only his father hadn't left that night. If only he'd called a cab, or the bartender had cut him off, or someone had done something._

_  
  
"This is your goddamn fault, you know that." Lucifer snapped at him, pulling him out of his reverie._

_  
  
His head snapped up. "What?" He asked meekly. He didn't understand. He was only a child, after all.  
_

_  
He felt his brother's icy hands around his neck, pushing him up against the wall, hard, forcing his throat closed. He choked and sputtered, gasping for air. He pried at his brother's fingers, but to no avail. He was trapped, kicking, flailing. Dying. He was dying, the life leaving him with every breath he couldn't take._

_  
  
"He never would've gone out if it hadn't been for you. You're so stupid, so sad and whiny! You brought him down, so he left to try and be happy somewhere, and he died! He drank himself to death because you upset him so much! Just like you killed our mother when you were born, just like you made our stepmother leave! For the same reason!"_

_  
  
His vision was blurring, and tears sprang to his eyes as his brother let go. He dropped to the floor in a heap, sobbing and shaking._

_  
  
"God, can't you just be normal? Haven't you done enough damage to us?"_

_  
  
His brother left, closing the door behind him. He was alone now, in the empty room._

_  
  
And alone he would stay, he decided. He knew, he knew now. He couldn't make anyone else bear his sadness, the ache in his chest that never went away. It had to he his, and only his. He'd hurt people with it now. And any punishment he got, he deserved. He had brought this on himself, on all of them._

_  
  
He locked himself away that night, and every day after._

  
  
>

  
  
"Cas? Cas!" Dean shook him out of it. Suddenly, he was back in the room. In Dean's apartment, in Sioux Falls.

  
  
He couldn't stop the tears flowing from his eyes. And with every second that passed, he hated himself more. And there was Dean, holding him, like he was something precious. Something to be loved.

  
  
He didn't deserve it. He deserved their anger. He'd killed his mother, caused his father to drink himself to death, he'd driven everyone away from his family, everyone who could've helped them. He'd forced his brothers to raise him and his siblings, when they'd been only as old as he was now. "It's my fault. My parents, it's my fault. They were my fault. My stepmother leaving, she was my fault."

  
  
"What are you'd talking about? You said you were a baby when your mother died; that she died in labor."

  
  
"She did." He said miserably. "She gave birth to Anna just fine, I was the problem. The doctors, they said there was something wrong with me. Something made her hemorrhage, and she died. An hour after I was born, and she was dead."

  
  
"Cas, that's not your fault." Dean said softy. "You were a baby."

  
  
"I was still the reason she died, Dean. I've been a fuckup since I was born."

  
  
"That's not true, alright? It's not." Dean pleaded.

  
  
"How could it not be?! My stepmother couldn't even stand me, and so she left. And then my dad, he couldn't be around me. I got him killed one night. I wasn't a good enough kid, I wasn't happy like Gabriel always was or smart like Raphael and Michael, and even Anna was better than I was. She was funny, and kind. And I was just shy, and sad. And I tried, I tried so hard to he better, but I couldn't. And then one day, he left. He went to a bar and he got too drunk and he drowned in his own vomit. And it was my fault. I made us orphans."

  
  
Dean was at a complete loss for words. Cas wouldn't look him in the eye, so he just stared. He stared at the broken man in his arms, and tried to discern what had been done to him to make him like this.

  
  
Before he could come up with something to say, Cas spoke again. His voice was so much smaller now, decibels erased by fear and desperation."That's why I wanted to be happy for you. Because I can't lose you. You're the best thing in my life, I can't drive you away like I do to everyone else."

  
  
Dean took it all in. He gave Cas a moment to breathe, making sure he had nothing else to say, before he spoke. "That," he said. "Is the most fucked up thing I've ever heard."

  
  
That shocked Cas. "What? What part of it?" He stammered.

  
  
"All of it. You didn't drive anyone away, baby. I don't know who the hell told you that, but I can pretty damn well guess." He said. "And you listen to me. He's wrong. They're wrong. It's not your fault, and it never has been. You were just a kid."

  
They'd put this burden on a child, thought Dean, and this man was the result. In all the world, all the fucked up things he'd ever heard of, that had to be one of the most horrific. They'd made an innocent child believe he'd been responsible for his parents' demises, that he'd deserved the abuse he got for something he hadn't done. The only thing he was guilty of was being born, and since when was that a sin?

  
  
And then Dean realized, from Cas's point of view, Lucifer had probably been kind to him. What Dean saw as abuse and neglect, Cas probably saw as kindness. In his mind, he deserved nothing. He deserved to waste away for his crimes, and yet they'd housed him and fed him and kept him in school. And any violence, any insults, any torment, they were a slap on the wrist compared to what he thought he deserved.

  
  
Dean thought he might vomit. But he couldn't. He couldn't show his disgust, not now, when Cas might think it was because of him.

  
  
And them he remembered his conversation with Charlie earlier that day. "Hey, Cas, my friend taught me to say something in Russian. Wanna hear?"

  
  
"Um, sure?" Sniffled Cas against his chest.

  
  
"Люблю тебя всем сердцем, всей душою." he said, soft as a breath, smiling tenderly.

  
  
Cas turned to look at him, bewildered. His eyes were huge and glassy, two red-rimmed pools of blue sky. "You mean it? After all that, and you're not going to leave?"

  
  
He sounded so earnest that it broke Dean's heart. "Of course not. I mean it." He cradled Cas's head as best he could, thumbing lightly over the mating mark on his neck, a soft reminder of how much he was wanted. "You are everything to me. Please, don't think so little of yourself. It makes me sick that they've made you think you're not worth it."

  
  
Cas leapt on him, kissing his lips and his neck with fervor. "And even if I'm sad, you won't want to go? I'm not sure you understand, Dean." He said, calming down a little, regaining a small amount of wariness. "Sometimes I, I just don't feel things. And I've been told it's unsettling. People don't... They don't usually want to be around that." He'd been told that, among other things, thought Cas.

  
  
"You're human, Cas. You're allowed to be sad sometimes, even if there's not a reason. I don't want you to keep things from me because you're afraid of pushing me away. So when you're happy, then I'll be happy with you. And when you're not, I'll be right here, and you can let me do the smiling for us both." Breathed Dean. He'd never envisioned having to explain that to another human being. He'd never imagined someone could be so cruel as to take the right to emote away from someone. The right to feel. He wondered, for a brief moment, if he could ever really give it back. Or was he just putting a band aid over a bullet wound?

  
  
Cas collapsed into his arms, finally pacified. Another sob broke out of him; a cry of relief. "Ssh, ssh, baby. I've got you. I'm here, I'll always be here for you." He rocked Cas in his arms, letting him melt into his shoulder.

  
  
"Thank you. Thank you, Dean."

  
  
Dean waited a few moments, until Cas's breathing evened out a little, before gently getting him up and leading him to the bed. He pulled the covers up, guiding Cas down and tucking him in before slipping off his jeans and shirt and sliding in next to him, pulling him back into the circle of his arms and pressing a soft kiss into his hair.

  
  
The night came and went with Cas asleep in his arms, and Dean woke up the next morning with a dilemma. He didn't want to pressure Cas into moving in with him, but he now feared for his safety in the hands of his brothers. What would he do? He knew he'd never sleep again knowing Cas was at their mercy.

  
  
As Cas began to stir in his arms, he realized that the most logical thing to do would be to talk to him.

  
  
>

  
"Cas, babe, we gotta talk."

  
  
"What about?" Asked Cas, sitting on the counter across from where he was making breakfast.

  
  
He sighed. "Listen. Just, hear me out, okay?"

  
  
Cas nodded. "Alright."

  
  
"I'm worried about you living with your brothers. I know you can take care of yourself, but baby, please think about moving in with me. You can put your stuff in the spare bedroom if you don't wanna share a room just yet, you can have all the privacy you need. I just would feel better if you weren't living with those, those douchebags anymore. You deserve better than that."

  
  
There it was. All laid out in front of them. He couldn't help feeling a little exposed, but shook it off. After all, it was just he, Cas, and the walls, ever watching.

  
  
Cas shook his head. "Dean, you know I can't. I would have no money, and no job prospects. I can't simply force you to provide for me."

  
  
"Angel, you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering, okay?" He whined.

  
  
"And what if you don't want to offer anymore, Dean? What then? I would have literally nowhere to go." Said Cas with a steely expression.

  
  
Dean faltered. "You still don't trust me." He said, exasperated.

  
  
Cas sighed, looking at the floor near Dean's feet. "People in my life have a history of leaving, Dean. It's not your fault, but I need you to understand that trust isn't easy for me. I'm just not ready yet."

  
  
As much as he hated it, Cas was right. He was bordering on insensitive. But then, he had an idea. "Look, how about a compromise, okay?" He said, turning to face Cas head on. "I'll have you a key made for this place, you can put some clothes and stuff here, and if you ever need a place to crash, for any reason, you can come here. You don't have to call, or text, or anything. I'll probably see you, because it's so small, but the food's all yours and you can sleep in either bed. And if you need a ride anywhere, I can pick you up or drop you off."

  
Cas nodded. "Although I still despise being carted around like a child, I see no way to sneak a car onto my family's property without raising some suspicion. So that sounds very reasonable. Would you mind if I brought more painting supplies over?"

  
  
"Not one bit." He said, kissing Cas on the forehead, and lightly on the bruised cheek, before turning to flip the eggs.

  
  
>

  
  
Leaving the attic, Lucifer made his way to the library. He knew Raphael was waiting there for him. He'd had enough time now that Raphael would be awaiting answers. Lucky for him, he'd just gotten them.

  
  
Pushing open the grand mahogany doors to the library, he saw immediately the large crystal decanter on the side table by the door. There was a glass beside it, for him, he assumed. Well, he wasn't one to turn down a drink, especially not fine whiskey. He poured himself a glass and made his way towards the large windows where his brother was waiting.

  
  
"I assume you've done some work in the time since we've spoken?" Asked Raphael, not turning to look at him.

  
  
"Have you ever known me to be lazy, brother?" He asked in response.

  
  
Raphael rolled his eyes. "Frequently." He said, sipping from his glass. "What have you determined?"

  
  
"Dean Winchester will not be a problem." He said, waiting to see if Raphael needed more of an explanation.

  
  
"I doubt that is all you have to say."

  
  
"Well, see," he paused, taking a swig of his whiskey, "he won't be much of a problem. Castiel doesn't trust him completely, not yet. I believe I've made sure of that. However, he does trust him enough to go to him for help. But not enough to fully disclose my, shall we say, discipline methods. Nor the reasons for them." He cracked an icy grin at that, laughing at himself.

  
  
"Get to the point, Lucifer. For god's sakes, the time will be upon is before you're finished." Said Raphael, exasperated. His brother was much too flamboyant for his taste.

  
  
"My point is, if we can keep him here, away from that man, then we're golden."

  
  
"You should have led with that." Said Raphael.

  
  
Lucifer shook his head. "You need to relax. When the time comes, everything will play out. Trust me."


	9. run and hide your lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for drinking, nightmares, violence, blood, and mentions of human trafficking

He was in a bright red desert. A vast, untouched plane, red dunes and red valleys and a black-gray sky. Not another soul in sight. The wind began to pick up, as he looked around. Clouds of red came swirling at him, crimson and scarlet and awful, stinging his eyes and cutting into his lungs. There was no sun in this world, the entire place lit from somewhere he couldn't see, like he was a character on a twisted sitcom. He felt the blood red dust pooling at his feet, and when he tried to run, he fell into it. 

  
And he kept falling. Where there had been solid ground, seconds ago, there was now only dust. Dry and fine and drowning, drowning him in it. He couldn't see the sky, not anymore. It pulled him down and down like demon's hands and it clogged his throat and then–

  
And then he wasn't there anymore. 

  
He was in a house. His house, his old house. Running to the window, he could see that the desert was gone. Instead, the cold Russian streets greeted him, blanketed in thin snow. A car drove past, it's tires leaving muddy streaks in their wake. He'd always hated driving in the winter, knowing that everywhere the car went, it turned the fine white snow to grey slush.

  
  
He turned around to boxes and boxes. The cold from outside seemed to have seeped into the house. So cold, so cold. It was getting colder. He could see icicles forming on the boxes, the crucifix still on the wall freezing over.

  
His hands were shaking, and he noticed they were turning blue. Oh god, please save him. Please, please, lord. He ran for the door, only to have the floor turn to ice under him. He slipped and fell and pain coursed through his body, replaced by the numbness of ice. He was freezing, it wouldn't be long now.

  
He tried to crawl, to shimmy his way across the floor. The door got farther away the more he moved. It was hopeless, really. All of it was.

  
 _"You know it is, Castiel."_ He heard his brother's voice call out, from somewhere he couldn't see. His brother had heard his thoughts, he knew. He was telling him to stop, to let the ice take him. To die. " _You'll never reach it. You can't. Just stop trying, you'd best just die right here."_

  
And as he laid his head down, he noticed that the ice was no longer white, but red. Blood was streaming out of him, staining it and tarnishing it. It would've been beautiful still, if not for him. If he'd not dragged himself, he wouldn't be bleeding. Stupid, stupid.  
He felt no pain, but eventually lost the energy to keep his eyes open. The last thing he saw before he closed them was red, blood and ice and choking, thick dust.

  
>

  
Cas woke up sweating, sheets soaked through and mouth as dry as if it was made of paper.

  
He coughed and choked and checked himself over, remembering how he'd been bleeding in the dream. He wasn't bleeding. He was fine. He was okay. Ten fingers, ten toes.

  
And yet he couldn't seem to fall asleep. He checked his phone. Ten thirty. He'd only been in bed for an hour. An hour. Ugh. He laid back down, forcing his eyes to shut and his limbs to be still. However he tried, though, he couldn't force himself to sleep. He was happy he didn't have school tomorrow.

  
He should've stayed at Dean's tonight. The absence of his warmth next to him was discomforting. But then again, if he had, he would've woken Dean with his nightmare. That was really the one thing he didn't think he'd managed to do to him yet. And even though Dean claimed not to mind, he still felt the need to keep his issues under control.   
Maybe he didn't have to be alone. But he didn't have to go to Dean's either. He could always call him. Then again, Dean might be worried and try to come get him. After all, the last time he'd called this late, he'd shown up at Dean's soaking wet and in need of care. Would he worry Dean by calling him?

  
He decided to risk it. He needed the sleep badly. He pulled his phone back out of his bag, amid dialed Dean's number. It rang twice before he picked up. "Cas?" Came a gruff voice from the other end.

  
"Hi Dean." He said, drawing up his knees and sitting with his back against the wall.

  
"Everything okay? Do you want me to pick you up?"

  
"I'm fine." He said. "Really, I promise, I am. I'm in my room. I just... I needed to hear your voice, I guess." He looked out his window as he spoke, watching the snow falling, wondering what Dean was doing right now. "Did I wake you?"

  
"No, I was awake. Did you have a nightmare or something?" Asked Dean. 

  
"Yeah. I did." He said. Nightmare wasn't the right word. Night terror was more like it. He didn't have them every night, but when he did, it left him with a chill in his bones and a feeling like dust in his throat. Dean knew him so well, he thought. "What are you doing?" He asked. He just needed to talk himself back to sleep, that was all.

  
"I'm at the store." Said Dean. "I forgot to get groceries."

  
"While you're at it, I think I ate all of your Oreos. I don't know if I wrote that on the list. I can pay you for them." He said.

  
"You don't have to. I'll just get more, it's fine. Anything else you want, while I'm here?"

  
"No, not really." He could feel his eyelids dropping again, Dean's voice having calmed his nerves. "Thank you, Dean. I think I'll go back to sleep now."

  
"I'll always be here for you, angel. Get some rest." He hung up the phone, and fell back asleep with it in his hand, restless still, but a bit more content.

  
>

  
" _I'll always be here for you, angel."_ He said. _"Get some rest."_ After that, he heard a click on the line. After that, he dropped his phone in the cart before screwing his eyes shut, pressing the heels of his hands into them. He took deep breaths, forcing the angry tears he'd gathered back down.

  
It wasn't fucking fair. Nothing was. None of it.

  
He tried his best not to let it get to him, how crappy their situation was, but tonight was one of the nights when it did.

  
Because it was so, so fucked up. All of it. It was fucked up that Cas had so many nightmares he didn't even know he'd had them when he was at Dean's. Sometimes he would toss and turn at night, and Dean would have to talk to him for the better part of an hour to get him to stop, pulling him close and kissing his face and his head and everywhere he could reach. He didn't even wake up, most times.

  
It was fucked up that Dean was ninety percent sure he could guess, on any given night, what the subject of Cas's nightmares were.

  
He'd lied about the groceries thing. 'Cause that was fucked up too. Cause he wasn't buying groceries, he was buying Cas winter gear that he was sure he'd leave at Dean's and only wear when Dean reminded him that it was negative ten fuck-all degrees outside.

He'd buy Oreos now too, he guessed, and probably liquor, at this point. Why the hell not. He'd be sleeping alone anyway.

  
He shoved gloves and some hats and a scarf into the cart. He considered buying a jacket, too, but it was too much. Baby steps, he thought. He tried to ignore the way his feet scuffed along on the dirty, dusty floor. He rubbed at his dry lips, chapped from the cold and the unusually dry weather.

  
The bottle of Jack was dusty and cold, just like everything else in this damn town lately. It was crushing him, seeping into his mind and his soul, dragging at his feet and pushing his shoulders down. He was sick, now, all the time. And it wasn't a cold or a headache, something he could fix. It was this awful feeling in his gut, this monster living there, pulling at his insides. He was always checking over his shoulders, now. Always feeling like someone was watching him. He was always on alert. The dust in the air rode up with the wind and made his stomach lurch with it, hands shaking at every car that passed on the highway.

  
He was going out of his mind, he knew. The more he thought, the more rational he became. He was a grown man, for gods sake. If something happened, he'd be able to handle it.

  
But when silence filled his mind, so did the dust that weighed him down. Whispering and waiting. He was always waiting, waiting for something. He didn't sleep at night, unless he drank, or slept next to Cas. He vastly preferred the latter.

  
He got the Oreos last, making his way to the checkout aisle. There was no one in line, and so he was out to his car pretty quickly. He was home even faster.

  
And he didn't want to be there, he thought, sitting in the dark driveway, the one just under his apartment. He didn't want to go upstairs to an empty, dark apartment. He didn't want to get drunk and sleep with the lights on.

  
So he pulled back out of the driveway. He drove and drove and drove, taking random turns, not sure where he was going. He didn't care, not really.

  
Eventually, though, the snow stopped falling. And the clouds moved away, and the stars came out.

  
And it was then that he knew he was far from home. The buildings had disappeared, giving way to miles and miles of fields. He pulled over, eventually, and began to walk. He walked until his car was out of sight, a speck on the horizon.

  
He laid down in the field, checking his phone. Four AM, goddamn. He'd driven for five and a half hours without even knowing it. He took a swig of the Jack, looking at the stars. They'd fade soon, that much he knew. But they were beautiful while they were here. Specks of periwinkle and white and pink in the navy blue sky.

  
He closed his eyes, trying to let his world fade to blue again, and failing. He couldn't to ignore the weight on him, ever present, and the feeling whenever he breathed. The unmistakeable feeling of breathing in dust, like a fog over him. He'd escaped the town, but not it. Not the heaviness or the wrongness in his gut or the suffocating dust that swirled around, filling the dry air.

 

He bet that if he opened his eyes, he wouldn't have even seen the sky, just it.

  
Eventually, he dared open his eyes again. And the sky was blue, and the sun was out. Ten o'clock, his cell phone said. It was about to die, too. He must've fallen asleep in the field. No missed phone calls, that was good. He hadn't missed anything, at least.

  
He walked the snowy path back to his car, half wondering how he hadn't frozen to death in the night. Then again, the sun had been set to rise about an hour after he'd fallen asleep. He realized how lucky he'd been that it hadn't started snowing again.

  
His luck turned as soon as he drove into town. Purple clouds marked his way over the state line (he'd been in North Dakota, he now knew). It was snowing like it was the end of days by the time he got home.

  
He didn't stay home for long. Instead, he went to the bar. He was pretty sure it was nickel shot night. And even if it wasn't, he could always use another drink.

  
>

  
Dean sat at the bar glumly. He'd just gotten back into town a few hours ago, and in that time he'd managed to take a nap and make his way back to the bar for another drink. Worry gnawed at his stomach, and ire spiked his blood, pricking his nerves. Cas called just about every day, but he hadn't called today. It was weird, even though the knew Cas was probably just busy. _He has a life outside of you, Dean,_ he thought. He turned his phone over and over in his hands, staring at nothing.

  
"Dean!" Said Jo, slapping him on the shoulder. "It's Pamela's birthday! You gonna drink with us or what?" She asked cheerily. And although he wasn't in the mood to party, he decided it was the perfect time (and opportunity) to get shitfaced. "Sure, Jo." He said, getting up and grabbing shot glasses from behind the bar. "Let's do this!"

  
God, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed drinking himself stupid. He lost count of how many shots he did, and he knew there were beers after that. All he knew was that he'd wake up on the floor (or the couch, if Ellen was nice), and he wouldn't remember a damn thing.

  
>

  
_December 21st, 2 PM:_

  
He wished he couldn't feel a damn thing.

  
But he could. His coat was thinner than he'd have liked and his shoes were soaked through with snow. It was useless. The branches scraped him as he ran, down and down and down. Down the road, down the hill. Away, away. He had to run. Run faster or they'd follow. He would follow.

  
But they didn't know this way. They wouldn't, they drove everywhere, and never to this part of town. He wasn't even sure if they knew he could get out the window. But he could. And he had. Even with the blood dripping from his face and the sharp, stabbing pain in his sides and the cuts that wouldn't stop reminding him of their presence, he ran.

  
He ran though he could barely breathe, heart pumping, alive. He was dying, but he was still alive.

  
He was dying. They'd tied him up, he'd tried to fight. They'd beaten him down, with knives, with a cane. He'd waited until they'd left, ripping the zip ties apart, filleting the skin of his wrists in the process.

  
He was dying. He was sure there'd be a trail of blood behind him, if it didn't snow again. And it looked like it was going to. His head was light.

  
He didn't know where he was, now. He'd lost the path, but he heard the water. Could he follow the water? Follow it home, to Dean? Dean. What would he say, when he saw the blood? The blood. He was bleeding, bleeding still.

  
He lost his footing, falling on the ice. He hadn't made it to the water. He hadn't made it to the road. _Now I lay me down to sleep,_ he thought, _I pray The Lord my soul to keep._

  
Home. He had to go home. Why was he laying down? Had he fallen? He couldn't remember. How had he gotten here? Running, he remembered running. Bleeding. Dying. Lucifer. Dean. Dean.

 

Had Dean been there?  Was he looking for him? No, no, that wasn't right. _And if I die before I wake._

  
He'd been looking for Dean. For a home, for anyone. He was running away.

  
_I pray The Lord my soul to take._

  
His head rolled to the side, and the snow began to fall.

  
>

  
_3 PM:_

  
He woke up on the couch in the back room, with a splitting headache. Sitting up, he briefly thought he might throw up, but thankfully it passed. Holy shit, he was an idiot.

  
He couldn't remember anything from the night before past arriving at the bar. Fuck, fuck. He hoped to god on high that Cas hadn't been there. Shit, he hadn't been there, right? Right, right. Oh yeah. He'd been drinking to forget about Cas. Not Cas, exactly, but the fact that Cas hadn't called. Had he called? What fucking time was it anyway?

  
Eventually, curiosity won out over vertigo. Walking into the bar, his father and brother were already there. He briefly wondered where his mother was, before he remembered that she was working today. Then, he remembered his phone. It had died last night and he'd began to charge it with Jo's charger, before passing the fuck out. "Hey Jo, I think I left my phone here last night. Did it charge?" He hoped Cas hadn't called while he was out.

  
"I didn't turn it on. I think so." Said Jo, grabbing it from where it was still plugged in.   
Turning on his cell phone, notifications immediately began to pop up, on after the other. 17 missed calls, all in the last half hour, from a number he'd never seen before. He'd hoped Cas had called, but upon checking, they weren't from him. The area code wasn't from anywhere close by. "Hey Jo, you know this number?"

  
She bent over the bar to look at his phone. "No, I don't." She shook her head. "But hey they're calling again."

  
He picked up this time, on the second ring. The first thing he heard was loud sobbing and shallow breathing. The second was a voice. Anna Novak's voice.

  
"Dean. DEAN!! Oh my god, oh my god, боже мой, where are you!?"

  
He felt cold wash over him, like someone had left the door open. The hairs on his neck stood on end. Strangely, his hangover washed away with it. And not in a good way. It felt like his body was hunkering down, putting him on edge. "What the– Anna? Okay, first of all, stop crying, second of all, speak English." Everyone looked at him strangely when he said that, but he didn't notice them. He was frozen in place. He could feel his heart beating in his throat.

  
He heard a commotion on the other end of the line, the phone changing hands, before Gabriel's voice came out of the speaker. "Dean, where are you? There's not much time to explain."

  
"I'm at the Roadhouse, why? What's going on?" He demanded.

  
"You know where my brother lives, right?" He sounded short of breath. Dean could faintly hear tires squealing in the background. "Gabriel, what is going on!?"

  
"Meet me out back of the mansion as soon as possible. Meg and Baz are already there. It's better if I explain it to you in person." Click.

  
He wasted no time in digging his car keys out of his pocket, thanking whatever deity was up there that he had driven and not walked. "Dean, what's going on?" Asked Ellen.

  
"Gabe won't tell me, but I think it's bad. I have to go. Like now." He didn't hear anyone else's bewildered questions as he barreled out the door and into his car.

  
>

  
_3:15 PM:_

  
When he got to the house, Gabe, Meg, and Baz were parked out back, in a circle. He wondered why they were in such plain sight, was anyone else home? It didn't matter, he decided. He ran out to meet them.

  
When he got there, no one greeted him. They simply turned their attention to Gabe.

There was something cold and somber about them, the color drained from their faces in the cold. "Alright, now that he's here, can you fill us in? The sooner you tell us if things've gone tits up, the sooner I can pretend this was all a really bad acid trip." said Balthazar.

  
"Oh things've gone tits up, alright. Anna, you've gotta tell them." Said Gabriel.

  
Anna was sitting on the hood of Gabe's car, staring at nothing and murmuring in Russian. She jerked to attention when Gabe said her name. "Friday night, I went out partying. Last night, I tried to sneak back in, but they were all awake. They threw me in my room, which is normal, when they catch me, but they're never awake at that time. I..."

  
She paused, trying to translate her thoughts into words. Dean could see how shaken she was. He'd never seen her quite like this before. Cold, yes, distant, yes, but scared? Never.

 

"I heard this awful racket coming from Cas's room, it sounded like... fighting or something. But I just thought it was normal, I mean they always fight, always. I should've known something was wrong. It's never four on one, never. They don't care that much. Never. I..." She looked like she might start crying again at any moment. 

 

Four on one? Had he heard that right? She sounded far away to him, like she was shouting through a tunnel. He couldn't even imagine. Four people. Four on one. He didn't even know if he could take four people alone.

  
She took a shaky breath before speaking again. "That was last night, I didn't hear anything all day today. And then I snuck upstairs, about an hour ago," her voice drained down to a whisper, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. "And there was blood. Everywhere. All over the wall, and some on the floor. There was so much blood, and he wasn't there. I thought I was gonna throw up."

  
"Did they see you?" Asked Meg, eyes wide, face white. Why was she here? Why was Baz here? His headache had returned in part, making it hard to think. Was he missing something?

  
"No, they didn't. I, I snuck down to the garage and wrecked their cars, keyed the tires, so they shouldn't have gone anywhere, and then I called Gabe. He was on his way into town anyway. I ran, I ran onto the road, and I waited."

 

Dean could feel his brain shutting down, his instincts taking over. He'd heard people's accounts of what it felt like to be an alpha protecting their mate, but he'd never experienced it firsthand. He'd never even thought he would. He'd had no reason to, until now. "If he's not here, then why are we?"

  
Gabe looked at him, not meeting his eyes, grave and strangely ashamed. What had he to be ashamed of? And why now, of all times, when the world was already spinning off-kilter? He supposed that it was exploding, but slowly, not like a bomb, more like a spinning top. It was being destroyed all the same, but it was happening so that he could see the shrapnel being created and the screws flying loose and the fire burning the grass and the houses, so that everything that happened pierced his skin anew. "We have reason to believe they might still be keeping him here. We need to search the house."

  
"What is this reason, exactly?" He asked, keeping his voice as level as possible.

  
"Gabriel, don't tell me you didn't tell them. Did you at least tell Cas?" Said Baz.

  
Gabe turned to look at Balthazar now, his face twisted into an expression of pain. "I couldn't, Baz, I just couldn't. It would've broken his heart."

  
"And possibly saved his life!" Spat Meg. "What did you really spare him, in the long run? Huh? What were you thinking!?"

  
"I thought we could save him. I thought he'd never have to know." Said Gabe, defeated.

  
"Know what?" Asked Dean. Any other day, he'd have been concerned that they might be keeping something from him and Cas. But now, now he was enraged. He could feel the fever it created, boiling his blood and scarring his bones. And it felt like the end. If it didn't pass, if he didn't succeed, then he understood completely why everything would come to an end. And it was setting his whole self on fire.

  
They all turned to look at him. "That Lucifer convinced Raphael to sell him. On the black market. They'd found a buyer and everything." Said Gabriel.

  
And then he felt it again, only so much stronger. The last switch flipped, and white hot rage overwhelmed him, sharp as ice, hotter than hell. "You all knew about this, and yet not ONE of you managed to tell him OR ME !?!" He snarled, practically spitting. His teeth ground into each other so much that it would've been painful if he'd been paying any attention to them. His knuckles were white, fists clenched, ready to fight nobody. Or maybe everybody. He couldn't seem to make up his mind.

  
"You think you're so much better than us?! You've been dating him for how long now? You had to have known about what happened at his house, and yet he still lives here. Why?" Demanded Gabriel.

  
"I don't have to fucking answer to you! And for your information, I offered to let him stay with me, okay? He didn't want to, and I wasn't going to force him to. I was tryin' to give him a god damn choice, alright? But I told him, my door was always open. Which is more than I can say for you. So save it, alright? Because this is your mess, all of you. If someone would have fucking told me, I'd have been on the phone with the police in a heartbeat. Speaking of which, why the fuck didn't you call the police?!"

  
"It wasn't that simple, you dipshit. The kid turned eighteen what, a few months ago? August? Before that, he'd have been shipped out somewhere. The cops would have taken him away. Maybe, if we'd been really fucking lucky, they'd have sent him to Michael, but no one's heard from him in over a year. I couldn't take him in, because I'm still on parole for breaking and entering a while back, and no one else can. So shove it." Said Gabriel.

 

A thought occurred to him. An ugly thought, sharp and harrowing. "How fucking long have you known?" He asked, as severely as he could make himself sound.

  
Gabriel just stared at him, shamefaced. "Three months." He said, finally, dropping his head and staring at the snow. "Since a week or two after you two met."

  
"Three months." He repeated. Three months. Two weeks. That must've been during Cas's heat. The first one they spent together. "Three goddamn months, and not one of us could stop them." It was shameful, and ugly, and he felt like a bastard. This was his fucking job, more than anyone else's. It was no fucking wonder Cas didn't trust him enough to live with him. He was supposed to have taken care of him, and now here he was, standing in the snow, with no idea where he was or if he was even alive.

  
He'd fucked up royally, and this time, it might not be okay. "Alright, here's the plan." He said. "Gabriel and I will take the top two floors, Meg and Baz will take the garage, the kitchen, and the basement. Anna, you stay out here and scream if you see something, alright?" He'd have to try, they all would. It was all they could do.

  
Everyone nodded. Stalking up to the house, they found the back door unlocked and slipped in.

  
On the top floor, Dean and Gabe had searched every room. There was no sign of Cas, and no sign of anyone else. The snow was starting to come down outside.

  
When they reached Cas's room, Dean almost vomited.

  
He lived in the uppermost room, away from everyone else. Cas had told him once that he liked it that way, but Dean couldn't bring himself to believe that anymore. The room looked barely lived in. Neatly pressed clothes in the closet, bed nicely made, a plain dresser to one side. His school bag, propped up against the edge of the bed. Even that was spotless, almost store bought condition. But there were no books, no letters, no posters. Not even a candy bar wrapper or an empty water bottle. There was no evidence that anyone lived here at all.

  
That was, aside from the blood that seemed to cover most of the wall near the window, and the floor. The stench of it clung to his nose, smothering him. It was absolutely nauseating to look at, even more so to stand near. "Don't touch anything." Said Gabriel, voice shaking. "It's gonna be a crime scene, we need to look like we weren't here."   
That didn't stop Dean. He padded around the still wet stains on the carpet, looking for anything that might help them. Under the windowsill were a pair of broken zip ties, bloodied, like everything else. They looked like they might've been attached to the air conditioner at some point. It was one of the large, metal, vent-like ones that came built into old houses. Perfect to tie someone to.

  
Speaking of the window, it was ajar. Looking out, he saw blood on the stretch of roof below it, and on the hedges under that. "He went out this way. I can't see anything in the snow, though. The wind covered it up. I don't know where he went."

  
"Dean, come on, we have to go."

  
He took one last mental picture of the room, gruesome as it was. And next to the dresser, something shiny caught his eye. Something glassy, close to the wall.

  
Moving closer, he carefully reached out to touch it. Picking it up, it turned out to be a picture frame. It was shattered, but he could still see the image. It was a picture of a man and a woman, smiling. She in a white dress, and he in a tuxedo. A couple on their wedding day.

  
The man had Castiel's jaw, and his nose, and the woman had his eyes. His parents, he realized.

  
He pried the broken glass away, took out the picture, and pocketed it. Then, he turned and left. 


	10. elegy for the darkest night of all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of talk about blood, injuries, and drugs in this chapter.

_3:25 PM:_

  
Back outside the house, Meg and Baz were already waiting for them. "Anything?" They asked. He and Gabe shook their heads. "You guys?" Meg was already shaking her head no. "So he got away." Breathed Anna.

  
"New plan." Said Dean. "Anna, you are gonna give the cops a tip about your brothers. Do we know where they are?"

  
"They're all in the garage, talking to the police about their smashed porches. I have to admit, Anna, you did some real damage." Said Meg.

  
"Cpпасибо, that was my intention." Said Anna.

  
"Okay. Anna, we're gonna drop you off at the Roadhouse so you can call in a tip." Said Dean, putting a hand on Anna's shoulder. She was still pale, and possibly in shock. After what he had seen, he didn't blame her. "Ellen can maybe get you something to eat or drink, alright? Also, tell Jo what happened. She can put Ash on the lookout for your brothers. He's got a ham radio wired to the police channel. If, by chance, anyone's after us, your brothers or otherwise, he'll know. The rest of us are gonna split up and search the town."

  
He turned to the group, addressing them. "Look everywhere you think he might've gone, he has to be somewhere. We're gonna meet at the Roadhouse in about two hours."

  
"I'm gonna wreck my fucking bike. Just look at all that snow." Complained Baz.

  
"And I am too hungover for this. Goddamn." Added Gabriel. As he got in his car and began to drive, he pulled out his phone. He needed to make a call.

  
>

  
Sam sat in the Roadhouse restlessly, but with nowhere else to go. His father had gone to the salvage yard to see if he could find Dean. If not, he and Bobby were going to ask Jody to be on the look out.

  
He drummed his fingers on the table. Ellen wasn't talking, Jo was in the kitchen. It looked dark for three o'clock. The wind howled outside, wild and angry, thickening the sky with snow. He didn't know where Dean was. He didn't know where Gabriel was. Were they out in the blizzard?

  
Suddenly Gabriel's number flashed on his phone screen. He picked up on the first ring. "Gabe? Where are you, what's going on? Are you with Dean?"

  
"Sam, listen." Said Gabriel, sounding winded. "You still have my apartment key, right?"

  
"I do. Why?"

  
"You remember what I told you? About my brothers? Well, it's happening. Also, there's a very small chance that Cas might be there. At my apartment, I mean. We can't find him, that's why we're all out here looking for him. I need you to go there, and if he's there, help him. Can you call me when you get there?"

  
He picked up his keys and put some money on the counter for his food. "Yeah. I will. Call me later, alright? Will you be okay?"

  
"I'll be fine. If I don't make it down tonight, I'll meet you there tomorrow."

  
"Okay. I'll see you."

  
"Right." Said Gabe. "See you."

  
"Gabe, take care of yourself."

  
"I will, kiddo. Promise." He hung up.

  
"Ellen!" Yelled Sam. "I have to go! If my parents come by, tell them I'm helping Dean."

  
"Where're you goin', boy?" She asked, obviously not believing him.

  
"Sioux City." He answered, putting on his coat and heading out the door.

  
The drive was hard in the snow, but once he got over the state line it eased up. He drove fast, he knew where the cops were and he kept away from them. The countryside passed him by, he paid no attention to it.

  
The first time he'd driven here with Gabriel, he'd stared at the rolling hills for hours. He'd found them beautiful. He'd found everything beautiful, really.

  
He did what was asked of him without must question, trusting that Gabriel knew what he was doing. An hour later, he was standing in a dark, empty apartment, dialing Gabriel's number.

  
"Gabe, no one's here. The place is exactly like we left it." He said. There was a long pause. "You haven't found him, have you?" He asked grimly. He knew Gabriel would be devastated if anything happened to Cas, and he couldn't even imagine what Dean would be like. Would Gabriel make it out of this alright? Would any of them, really? Cas was his friend. His best friend, really, save for Jo. What would this mean for his family? 

  
"No, kiddo. We haven't. Hang tight, okay? I'll call again soon."

  
>

_5:20 PM:_

When Meg and Baz got back to the Roadhouse, exhausted and defeated, they were met with a commotion. Ellen and Jo were there, and Hester and Ash had also arrived. "Is Dean with you?" Asked Jo. "Gabe?"

  
"The police are on their way." Said Ellen.

  
"Fuck me, I'd best be leaving then." Slurred a man with a thick British accent, getting up from the bar.

  
"Crowley? What the hell are you doing here!?" Asked Meg. She knew him. Biggest dealer this side of the river, and a fucking asshole.

  
"Drinking, love, it's a bar. And I've had a rough night. My business is going under."

  
"Your business is drugs." She complained. "How the hell is it going under?"

  
"You ought to know, you're trying to get my suppliers arrested."

  
"Your suppl... your suppliers are... oh my god. Crowley, what the ever loving fuck!?" She exclaimed, stunned and appalled.

  
"What!? It's not my fault! You don't get that rich by owning churches, dear. I'm surprised you didn't know."

  
"Didn't know what?" Asked Hester, who was there with Anna, holding her in her arms still.

  
"Those Novaks, they're kingpins! Hell, I may rule the streets, but it all comes from somewhere. Don't know where it's gonna come from now." Crowley frowned. "God I'm drunk." He said, suddenly self aware. "I shouldn't be telling you this."

  
"I thought they had some church business! Their dad's!" Said Meg.

  
"You're partially right." Said Crowley, taking a sip of his drink. "Daddy made them rich, but blow kept them rich. Don't you ever wonder why Michael's never around? He's trying to keep them afloat. Or, at least, he thinks he is. See, love, he's not involved. Lucie dreamed it up, and good ol' Raph financed it. They've been raking it in ever since they got to the states." Then, something occurred to Crowley. "Wait a minute, if you're not getting them arrested for the drugs, then what are you getting them arrested for?"

  
"Assault and battery, domestic violence, attempted kidnapping, and attempted human trafficking." Said Ash. Everyone turned to look at him, and he shrugged. "What? That's true, right? That's what Anna told me."

  
"Human trafficking." Said Hester, in a dreamlike voice. "Where do you find a buyer in a town like this?"

  
"Why are you so interested?" Asked Crowley, suspicious. Hester stepped away from Anna, and pulled out her wallet. And in it was a silver badge.

  
"Because I've been on a case for six months trying to catch a perp who's known to buy around here. I'm FBI. Mr. McLeod, if you give me the name of their buyer and any other information you have about him, I'm prepared to waive all charges against you for possession and sale of controlled substances."

  
Everyone stared at her in shock. Crowley's face went white, and he sank back down into his stool. Looking around, he licked his lips before beginning. "Look, here's what I know. The only person who buys around here is a man named Alastair. And if you get into business with him, you either deliver, or you become the delivery. I've never met the man, and I never ever want to. And I'm guessing he's who you're after."

  
"Yes, that is our target." She said, reaching into her pocket again and drawing out a cell phone. 

  
"If they were dealing with him, they either had a death wish, or they were absolutely certain they'd be able to deliver. Either way, what you need to do is find out the day that it was supposed to go down. Because if they're not there, then he'll go after them. And I'll be on a plane to Rio, because I don't want to be here for any of it."

  
"I can help with that." Piped up Ash. "If you give me Lucifer or Raphael's emails, I can hack them and find out when the deal was supposed to go down."

  
>

  
_5:25 PM:_

  
Two hours came and went quickly. The day was still trickling by like liquid, and Dean's head didn't feel quite as attached to his torso as it should be. His sense of smell, however, was going into overdrive. He knew it was his natural instincts trying to seek Cas out by scent, but he could smell everything and everyone. And none of them were Cas.   
He was standing in the middle of his parents' living room, pale light coming in from between the slatted blinds and washing everything grey, when he got the call from Meg.

 

"Where are you? Have you found him? We're all back here." 

 

"No, Meg. And this is the last place he could be. You don't think they already..." He couldn't even finish his own sentence.

  
"They didn't. Ash hacked into Raphael's email. It was supposed to go down on Christmas Eve."

  
He felt his breath leave him. That was in three days. It had been so close, creeping up. Fear trickled down his neck and bit at his shoulders, like seeing a figure around a corner. He felt it pressing into his chest and making it's home alongside guilt. He may never have even known what had happened. "Meg, is there anywhere we haven't looked?"

  
There was a long pause.

  
It had been a long year, though a good one.

  
And he felt it, he felt it all in that moment. Every second they had spent together whirled around his mind. They stood in silence, he on the phone and his friends in the bar, like sentries, guarding what they had left. A year ago, he had nothing to lose. Four months ago, he had found something. He'd never, in a thousand lifetimes, thought he'd end up here.

  
The wind howled outside, thick with snow and ice. The sun was setting over the tree line in the distance. Suddenly, Meg's voice came over the line, broken and choked, words forcing their way out that should not make sense, should not be spoken, but somehow, because the universe is a cruel lover, do and are. "Dean. The woods."

  
"What do you mean,'the woods'?"

  
"He used to walk through the woods to get into town. To get to your apartment, to the bar. If he was heading to you, he would've taken the woods."

  
The weight of her words hit him like a truck in the chest. "And he would've been heading to me."

  
"I'm sorry Dean. I'm so sorry."

  
What the hell was she talking about? It took him a moment to realize.

  
They thought he was dead. To them, the woods in the winter meant certain death. A boy in the woods in the snow is just a corpse with a long name.

  
But in that moment, he didn't care. It wasn't that it didn't connect in his mind, because it did. He knew what she meant. And he chose, because he could, and because he was selfish, and because he was selfless, to ignore it. "I'm going in. Anyone know if the river's frozen yet?"

  
"You'll die!" Came Baz's voice.

  
"Is. The. River. Frozen." He was on his porch now, locking his parents' front door. "I'm going in after him. Now I need to know, is the goddamn river frozen." He walked to his car. He did it for Cas, and he did it for himself. And neither reason really mattered. What mattered to him was that he couldn't think of a worse way to leave the world than to do it scared and alone and slowly, miles from anything warm or anyone helpful or caring. And the least he could do, if Cas really was dead and gone, was to make sure he hadn't been alone.

  
"It's frozen, but the ice isn't thick enough to walk on." Said Jo.

  
Maybe there really was a god. Maybe there were angels. Maybe mother fucking Theresa was up there right now, looking down on him, watching him run towards the end in the hopes he could play the game just a little longer. Maybe Cas was right, and someone was up there, listening to their prayers and scolding them for jerking off and pushing strollers out of the ways of trains. He didn't know, and he figured he wouldn't, not ever. But for what it mattered, he prayed. Two words, sent into the open air. _Save him._

  
"Thanks Jo. If I find him, I'm taking him straight to the hospital. If I'm not there by, say, eight thirty, don't come after me." He flipped his phone shut and slammed the gas pedal to the floor of the car. He drove as fast as he could, damning the ice and snow and police all to hell. He briefly wondered where he'd park, before he realized there was still a place he could turn off the road. Just past the two mile marker, the roofs of the houses just visible over the thin trees on the other side of the interstate. He slammed his car door shut and ran.

  
>

  
_5:27 PM_

  
As soon as they heard a click on the line, Gabriel put his gloves on. "I'm going too. I helped make this mess. And he's my brother."

  
"Are you both insane?" Yelled Meg. "You're gonna die!"

  
Gabriel didn't hear her. He'd already left.

  
"Aaagh!" she screamed, kicking a bar stool.

  
Balthazar put a hand on her shoulder. "Meg! You can't honestly pretend you don't understand."

  
"I don't! I don't understand! Why are they insisting on doing this? It's no use, and I don't want them to die! No one else needs to die, Baz!"

  
"He's Gabriel's brother, and Dean's mate. They have to go." Said Baz, astounded at her for thinking they wouldn't.

  
"They're going after a dead body!!" She cried, absolutely anguished. Her nerves were fried, and this was the absolute last straw. They were all idiots. Idiots for falling into this trap. She'd bet any money that Raphael and Lucifer had planned for them; planned on them not telling Castiel. They were sheep, running to their death after a dead shepherd.   
Because there was no way he could've lived. Even a man like Cas, strong and lithe and, for the most part, healthy, couldn't live in the cold. He'd be a frozen corpse by now. As much as she'd cared for him, as much as she wanted to run out there with them and kick and scream and run until her lungs burst or they found him or both, it was useless. She knew that.

  
And it was true, she realized, that he was their shepherd. He was the only reason she even knew Balthazar, or Gabriel, or Dean. He knitted them all together. He had wriggled his way into their lives, made things bright for a while, an d now they were paying for it, she thought.

  
Baz stared at her, open mouthed, before taking a swig from his flask and wagging a finger at her. "Oh my god. You actually care about them? You may pretend to be all cold and heartless, but you, Meg Masters, actually care!"

  
"Of course I care!" She snarled at him, eyes burning. "Why the hell do you think I act like I don't, huh? I wish to god I didn't really care, because when you care about people, then you care when they die. And everyone has to die. And this? We're just paying the piper." She choked. "Nothing lasts. We're paying for thinking it would."

  
"You're right about that. Everyone has to die." Said Baz. He sighed. "And on that note, Im thinking we should go too."

  
"Why?! So I can go to four funerals instead of three!?" She screamed. Had he heard her at fucking all?! "They're going after a body and you know it!"

  
He looked her in the eyes, and saw vulnerability. It shone in his too, bright and exposed. If there was one way to make people vulnerable, it was to threaten their lives, and the lives of their loved ones. At the end of the world, there simply isn't time to pretend.

  
"Because they're our friends. I'd rather die trying to help them than live till I'm a hundred knowing I just let them go."

  
As much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

  
>

  
_5:49 PM:_

  
_"The road your true love walks is cold. But remember, even frozen things can be thawed. Under the snow, there is always grass. And beyond the grass, there is always sand."_

  
Pamela's words rang through his ears as he ran through the woods. It was dark and cold, and the wind smelled like ice and stung his cheeks, slapping him as he ran.

  
_Always grass. Always sand._

  
He came to a break in the trees. A path. A road. He ran along it, towards the city, looking everywhere he could, eyes straining in the darkness. This had to have been what she was talking about, right? A frozen road. Frozen things can be thawed.

  
_Always grass. Grass. And sand. Grass and sand._

_  
Grass and sand._

  
The riverbank. Where the grass led to the sand.

  
Running as fast as he could, he began to smell Cas's scent on the air. It was faint and strained in the wind, but the closer he got to the river, the stronger it became. His heart hammered in his chest, and his legs burned. He ran faster, half sure he was going to trip and fall and oh god, what would happen then? But before he knew it, he was at the riverbank. He could hear the water rushing under the still thin ice, chunks of which were breaking off and flowing down with the harsh wind. He scanned up and down with his eyes, looking for any signs of life; anything at all.

  
It was so small he almost missed it. A dark shape was on the ground just to the side of the end of the path.

  
Cas.

  
He looked so peaceful he could've been sleeping; the thin layer of snow covering him a blanket. Falling to his knees beside him, he reached for his head. Snowflakes decorated his eyelashes, delicate and fragile. His skin was pale with cold, his lips bluish instead of their usual rosy color. There was a cut on his cheek that might've bled if it wasn't purple with frost. He didn't even want to think of the bruises and cuts that might lay under his bloodstained clothes. Pulling him close, he found his pulse point and held his fingers to it.

 

And he wept.

  
It was weak, but it was there. A pulse, thrumming, beating like the wings of a dying bird under his fingers.

  
His hands shook as he pulled Cas up and into his arms. The adrenaline and hormones coursing through his veins were slowing; he was almost spent. He curled his hands around his head and neck, cradling him, drawing him up under his body. He let himself weep, if only for a moment. It was then that he realized how little he'd actually considered the possibility that Cas could have been dead. He pushed it out of his mind, cradling Cas as best he could and standing. There was no time to waste.He had to get Cas to the hospital, had to protect him. And until he'd done that, he couldn't rest. 

 

 

He forced his way back up the path and to his car, fast as he could, focusing on his footfalls and the road in front of him. Getting in the car, he laid Cas across the front seat with his head in his lap, started the car, and cranked the heat up as high as it could go. Peeling out onto the road and praying he didn't drive onto black ice, he pulled out his near frozen cellphone and dialed Gabriel's number.

  
"Dean? Where are you?"

  
"I've got him. He's alive, meet me at the emergency room."

  
"Got it." Said Gabe. "And Dean, thank you."

  
"You can thank me later. Just get out of the woods before my brother comes in after you."

  
"Oh god. He's in Sioux City, actually, and he's gonna kick my ass."

  
"If it makes you feel better, Cas is gonna kick mine once he's conscious."

  
There was a pause. "I'll see you in a few."

  
>

  
_6:12 PM:_

  
When they reached the hospital, Cas still hadn't moved a muscle. He still had a pulse, but Dean had the sick feeling in his stomach again.

  
He parked in the ambulance zone right next to the door, consequences be damned, and pulled Cas out. Running into the ER waiting room, he pushed past everyone in line and went straight to the front desk. "I need help. He was in the woods for like, two or three hours. I think he's hypothermic. Also, he's kinda beat up, I don't know how bad it is, but I think it's bad." It was, if Cas's bloodstained clothes were any indication. But he didn't want to look at them, and he didn't want to think about it. He knew that if he let himself stop, even for a moment, and take in the full weight of what had happened to his love, then he may never move again.

  
The nurse behind the glass immediately got on some kind of PA and called a code. She then stepped out and pulled him toward a set of double swinging doors, where two other nurses came to meet him with a gurney. They pulled Cas from his arms, putting him on the gurney and wheeling him into a room with the curtains shut.

  
"No, no I have to go with– " he stuttered, but the nurse held him back. "What's his name?" She asked.

  
"Cas. Castiel Novak." He sputtered, holding back tears.

  
"And what's yours, son?"

  
"Dean Winchester."

  
"You're not related?"

  
"I'm his mate." He answered. "Where– where are they taking him?"

  
She still wouldn't answer him. "Winchester. You Mary's kid? Mary!" She yelled into a staff room. "Your kid's here. Dean."

  
He heard his mother's voice coming from the room. "What!?" She yelled. "Is he hurt?"

She came running out of the staff room. "Thanks, Adele." she said, dismissing the other nurse. "Dean, what the hell?! Ellen and your father called me to say you ran out of the Roadhouse, and then later you and your friends decided to go into the woods?! What the hell is going on!? You're covered in snow!"

  
He needed to sit down. "I, uh, um. I gotta sit down. 'M really tired."

  
She led him into the staff break room, and sat him down in a chair. "You look awful." She said, handing him a cup of coffee and cupping his cheek. It was only then that he realized how cold he was. His hands were still shaking, too. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

  
He took a deep breath. "It's kind of a long story."

  
She didn't say a word. Instead, she pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him. He was taller than her by at least a head, but he felt smaller than ever. He felt like a child, afraid and overwhelmed and wrapped in his mother's arms. And for the second time that night, he began to weep.

  
>

  
_6:20 PM:_

  
"So Gabriel's the punk that's been sneaking out of Sam's room every morning, right?"

  
"How'd you know?"

  
"I'm your mother. I know everything. I knew about Lisa and Rhonda when you were Sam's age."

  
He shook his head. "Anyway. Gabe's probably out there now. Im pretty sure Jody arrested Lucifer, and Raphael, and probably Uriel and Zachariah too. I don't think they were in on the whole plan, but they definitely helped."

  
"Well, you should go out there. Talk to Gabe. I'll figure out what's happening with Cas. But based on what you told me, it might be a few hours before the doctors let people see him."

  
"Thanks, Mom." He replied, ever grateful.

  
>

  
It turned out that, Gabe, Hester, and Anna were waiting outside the room. Jody was also there, taking statements. Dean walked into the hall at the same time as a tall black man.

 

"Chief Mills." he said. "My name is Victor Hendrickson, FBI. I'm Miss Milton's handler. I need to request copies of everyone's statements, as well as a statement from you and any information you have on a man by the name of Alastair. Hester, you're dismissed for the night, but keep your phone on, and I expect you to be in at the usual time tomorrow."

  
"Yes, sir." Nodded Hester. "Anna, do you want to stay with me tonight? Or do you want me to drive you somewhere?" She asked apologetically. Anna looked at Gabriel. "I should stay." She said.

  
He shook his head. "It's been a long day. Go home, eat something, go to bed. I'll call you if you should come back, but Michael's on his way in to help clean this up. He took a redeye out of Chicago, and he's gonna take a cab from the airport."

  
"Who's Michael, exactly?" Asked Dean. "Cas never talked much about him."

  
"He's our brother." Huffed Gabriel. "Left to run Dad's business abroad when he died. Sporadically contacts us. We really only talk to each other when something big happens, like moving from Russia. Or, well, this." Gabe closed his eyes and leaned his head back in the chair as everyone else got up to leave.

  
"What was that about with Hester?" He asked. Gabe just shook his head, and Dean was too tired to pursue it any further.

  
Jody took his statement as briefly as possible before following Victor out. She said something about taking Cas's statement tomorrow, but Dean wasn't listening.

  
When they were gone, Mary came back to see Dean and Gabriel. "They said he'll be out of surgery in about half an hour. After that, they're not gonna let people see him until he wakes up and they can make sure his motor functions are intact and he's not suffering any kind of amnesia. Also, they're pumping him full of nutrients and sugars, as well as morphine for the pain. Said he had really low blood sugar. Gabriel, do you know if he's eaten in the past day or so?"

  
"What the hell's he in surgery for?" asked Gabriel. "And no, Anna said they hadn't fed him." Dean still managed to be angry at that, drained though he was.

  
"Broken ribs, shattered ankle, and they had to make sure he wasn't bleeding internally. He lost a lot of blood." Said Mary.

  
Gabe let out a low whistle. "So we just have to wait?" asked Dean.

  
"Only thing you can do. I'd get some sleep if I were you two. By the way, Gabriel, it's nice to finally meet you in person." Said Mary.

  
"Huh?" Asked Gabe.

  
"Please. I know you've been seeing Sam. You should stay for breakfast sometime, we'd love to have you."

  
And with that, she turned and went to go call her husband.

  
Gabriel's eyes were as wide as saucers. He turned to Dean, gaping. "What the fuck, dude?"

  
He put up his hands. "I didn't tell her, man. She's my mom, she knows all. And you really should stay for breakfast. Her food's really good."

  
"She's not gonna kill me or something, serve me up, Hannibal style?"

  
"No, dude. She just wants to get to know you." He shook his head. "I wouldn't send you to your death."

  
"Good to know." Said Gabe.

  
He hadn't realized how tired he was. As soon as they stopped talking, he felt his eyelids hanging heavy. Within twenty minutes, he was asleep.


	11. and the stars have abandoned us tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been awhile, so sorry, things have been crazy here with the holidays coming up and all! 
> 
> Ch warnings for brief discussion of injuries and blood, and discussion of sexual assault and human trafficking.

_11:40 PM:_

  
His mother shook him awake. "Dean? Honey, wake up."

  
As soon as he registered the situation, where he was and all that, he shot forward in his chair. "Where's Cas? Can I see him?"

  
She smiled. "He's awake, and he's asking for you. He's right there." She pointed to the room closest to him.

  
Looking around, he saw that Gabriel was still asleep, and a man in a dark suit with blonde hair was asleep next to him. That must be Michael, he thought. He glanced at his mother, but she was already on her way to waking them up.

  
Shaking off the slight vertigo from standing, he walked into Cas's room.

  
He hadn't thought to prepare himself for what he might see, but walking in, he didn't know if it would've done any good. The hospital gown may have hid his torso, but it did little to cover the bruises that spread out over his face and neck, one large purple splotch fading into the next. If he'd had any illusions about what had gone down at the mansion, they were gone now, staring at the ugly marks. Marks that weren't his, as if he'd ever even think of branding his love so callously and cruelly. They a record, he knew, written in blood and skin instead of ink and paper. A map of every blow delivered, and if he could see straight enough to count them, he'd return them all to their deliverers.

  
Cas laid there, peaceful as he had been in the woods, save for the IV's dripping down tubes and into needles inserted into his arm. That, and the constant beeping of the heart rate monitor on the other side of the bed. Dean didn't even think he was awake until he heard his voice, so soft it was barely there. "Dean?" He croaked.

  
Dean practically tripped over himself trying to get to the bedside. He sat next to him, close as possible in the small space, and gently reached over to stroke his cheek on the side where there weren't bruises. "I'm here." He said.

  
Cas's eyes fluttered open a little, and he blinked at Dean in the dimness, the only light coming from a small bar above his head. "They told me I'm in the hospital." Said Cas, voice hoarse and small.

  
"You are, baby. You've been here about five hours now. Gabriel and Michael are out here, do you want to see them too?" He said softly, stroking his thumb over Cas's cheek.

  
"I wanted to see you first." He said.

  
"Was there something you wanted to ask me?"

  
Cas swallowed thickly. He was tired, Dean could tell. He had watched Cas fall asleep so many times that he knew the signs. He would fall back asleep soon, Dean was sure of it.

"Dean, the doctor told me you brought me in. That you pulled me out of the woods."

  
"I did." He nodded, sitting on the side of the bed, stroking Cas's forehead. "Meg, Baz, Anna, Gabe and I were looking for you. We figured out that you'd be in the woods, and I went in after you." He explained, softly. Cas looked even paler under the harsh, if dull, fluorescent light above the bed.

  
Cas was silent for a moment. Dean had to wonder if he could even take all this in, with how tired and probably pained he was. "Baby, if you're tired you can go back to sleep." He said.

  
"I'm fine." Said Cas, shaking his head. "Can you send my brothers in? And the doctor? I wanna go home." 

I do too, thought Dean. He wanted to take Cas home and wrap him in blankets and never ever leave their apartment again. "Of course." He said, kissing Cas's forehead before he left.

  
He made his way around the floor, getting Gabriel and Michael first so that Cas wouldn't be alone, and then finding his mother and Dr. Lafitte. Dr. Lafitte was a tall, muscular man with a southern accent. He looked tired as hell, but then again, Dean probably didn't look like Miss America either.

  
Once they were all in the room, Mary included, he began speaking. "I'm not gonna beat around the bush. You've all been through a lot, and it's very late."

  
He looked around to make sure he had their full attention before continuing. "I've submitted the full record of Castiel's injuries to the police, upon their request. Basically, all medical evidence says you shouldn't have lived." He said, looking directly at Cas. "But you did, and here you are talking to me. You bled quite a bit from your face and your side, where the broken ribs were. I say were because we put them back together a bit, but you need to be real careful these next few weeks. Your ankle should be in a brace for at least two weeks, and I'm thinking you slipped it when you fell in the woods. Am I right?" He asked.

  
Cas nodded, however weakly. Gabriel was next to him, holding his hand, and Michael was on his other side, leaving Dean to sit in a chair next to his mother. He wanted desperately to be close to Cas, to know exactly how he was doing with all of this. His mother put a hand on his shoulder, obviously sensing his disquiet.

  
"Also, we've cleaned the cuts on your sides. That's where you lost a lot of blood. They were from a blade, am I correct?"

  
"You are. A dagger, to be exact." Dean didn't even want to know the story behind that sentence. On one hand, he was proud. He was proud that, from the sound of it, Cas had fought hard and long. On the other, however, he was trying to push those images out of his mind forever.

  
Dr. Lafitte continued. "We've bandaged those, you'll need to change them every few days. Once they've scabbed over pretty well, you can stop. You've got some bruising up and down your sides and your legs, blunt force trauma. We're sending you home with some Vicodin, and that should take care of all your pain, including your ribs. However, I want to see you back at least once a week for a checkup. You live here, correct?"

  
"Correct." Said Castiel.

  
"Hang on, Cas." Said Gabriel. "Look, I really don't think you should go back to the house. You can't possibly watch over yourself when you're hurt like this. Unless Michael is able to stay there with you, then I think you should come with me to Sioux City."

  
Now it was time to freak out. He felt the muscles in his neck lock, his jaw snapping shut. He had to physically fight to keep himself from growling, baring his teeth in an angry snarl. He'd rested enough that his system was being flooded with hormones again, the alpha part of him reacting to someone trying to take Cas away from him.

  
He gripped the armrests of the chair as hard as he could, grinding the heels of his shoes into the chair legs as well. The only thing keeping him from lashing out was the fact that Cas was in here. If Cas saw him like this, angry and ready to hurt, he might never trust him completely. If Cas wanted to stay with him, it had to be because he wanted to, and not to placate Dean.

  
He couldn't do that to him. He couldn't be another uncontrollably angry person in Cas's life, ready to fight at the drop of a hat. He never wanted Cas to look at him with fear. Not ever.

  
So he sat, as quiet and still as he could, eyes burning holes in the back of Gabriel's head, trying to see Cas's face, maybe catch a glimpse of what he was thinking. Finally, he heard Cas speak.

  
"Gabriel, enough, alright? I'm not going to Sioux City, and I'm certainly not going back to the mansion. I'm going home, with Dean. And before you say anything, you're a fucking year and a half older than I am, okay? I'm as much of a goddamn grown up as you are. I don't need your protection, not that you ever really had any to give." Cas took a deep, if shaky breath, before going on. "And I'm not blaming you. You were their pawn just as much as I was. None of us are without their effect, not yet. I trust Dean, and you should too. But that doesn't matter right now. Right now, I literally don't care whether you trust him or not, I'm going home with him. His apartment is seven minutes from here if we need anything, and that's my final answer."

  
Everyone was silent. Dean visibly relaxed in his seat, the sudden adrenaline flood easing up just as quickly as it had come and leaving him drained all over again. He was overwhelmed, again, by a rush of love for Cas, and how absolutely perfect he was.  
He realized, suddenly, why they were mates. It wasn't just biology, like some people said, it was how well they fit together. Less like two halves of a whole, and more like they perfectly complimented one another. They were made to fit together, slip into each other's lives and build a life together. And despite all his doubts, all his fears that it wouldn't work, that Cas wouldn't chose him, he knew now that it would. It would work. Because even though he couldn't always protect Cas, and Cas couldn't always be near Dean, they'd always find each other.

  
And they'd be okay.

  
>

  
Mary pursed her lips, trying to contain a laugh. Cas had sounded so exasperated with his brother that, at eleven o'clock at night, it was almost comical.

  
But then, she took it into consideration. These two people, plus Anna, were all Cas had left. Three people from his original family, that had started out with how many? Nine, ten, more? Most people would've done anything, said anything to keep them around. But this kid had told them how it was going to be, plain and simple. She decided two things, in that moment. One, this boy was the bravest kid she'd ever met. And two, she had more Christmas shopping to do.

  
"Dean, honey, I'm gonna go home, okay?" She lied. She was actually going to drive a town over, to the twenty four hour super target. She'd seen Cas in enough of Dean's clothes to know that they wore the same size.

  
"Okay. I'll call tomorrow." He said. Not too early, she hoped. She doubted she'd be getting to bed very soon.

  
She excused herself from the room, sent a text to Sam, and went to the staff lounge or get her purse.

  
Back in the hospital room, Dr. Lafitte cleared his throat before saying, "Okay, so I think that's it. Uh, like I said, no real movin' around until we get the stitches out of your chest. If they pull, it's gonna hurt like hell, and you're gonna need to come back here immediately."

  
Dean nodded, still drained. "Got it. And thanks, doc." He would've said more, but he was too damn tired. Maybe he could get his mom to bring in a pie for the doctor, a small thank you for a huge service.

  
"Don't mention it. And you can call me Benny." He said, closing his chart and nodding at them before stepping out of the room.

  
Once he was gone, a nurse came in and took the IV's out of Cas's arm. Then, Michael said something about getting a hotel room for the night and left, and Gabriel excused himself so that Dean could put Cas's clothes back on.

  
Once everyone was out, Dean gently helped Cas sit up before grabbing his clothes from where the nurse had left them on the chair. Only to find that they weren't Cas's clothes, they were his. A pair of lounge pants and a soft t shirt. "Mom." He said. She must've taken his keys and gone to his house while he was asleep. At least one of them had thought to get Cas something to wear.

  
Cas's trenchcoat was also folded up under the clothes, but it was still damp from melting snow. He would have to remember to wash it later. "Dean?" Asked Cas.

  
"My mom brought you some clothes." He said, turning and setting them down next to Cas. He reached around him to undo the ties on the back of the gown, and found them already undone. The nurses must not've tied them in the first place. He gently slipped the sleeves off of Cas's shoulders, feeling him shiver slightly as he did. He kept as close as possible, keeping him warm. Next, he slipped the bottom part off, trying to focus on Cas's face. He had to look down, though, when he lifted Cas up and wrapped his arms around his neck, letting Cas support himself on him as he slipped Cas's legs into the pants and pulled them up around his waist. Benny hadn't lied; Cas's sides were battered, bruises marring his things as well as his torso.

  
He sat Cas back down, making shorter work of the shirt. The less time he had to look at the bruises, the less time he was forced to confront the fact that he'd practically let this happen.

  
He could yell at Gabe till he was blue in the face about giving Cas a choice when it came to where he wanted to live, but that didn't erase his guilt over this.

  
Cas seemed to sense it. "Dean." He said. "Look at me."

  
He felt Cas's fingers on his chin, guiding his eyes to Cas's. "What is it?" He asked.

  
"I'm going to be okay." He said, reassuring, cupping Dean's face with his hands.

  
"I know you are." Said Dean, putting his hands over Cas's and thumbing over them, still slightly colder than normal.

  
"What I mean is," said Cas, "this isn't your fault, okay?"

  
"I never said it was." He tried to defend himself, to lie.

  
"You were thinking it. You always think so loud." Said Cas, kissing Dean's forehead, pulling him close, soft and comforting. Damn it, this was so wrong. Dean was supposed to be the one comforting Cas, not the other way around. "Tell me what you're thinking." Said Cas, interrupting his thoughts again.

  
"If I had just pushed a little harder for you to move in, this wouldn't have happened to you." He admitted.

  
"And then we both would've been uncomfortable with it." Said Cas. "Me because I wouldn't have been sure if I really wanted to, and you because you'd feel like you'd forced me."

  
"You can't honestly think that it's better this way. You could've died!" Said Dean, shocked.

  
Cas shook his head. "No, this way isn't better. But let's put the blame where it belongs, okay? It's not your fault, it's my brothers'. No one forced them into this."

  
And just like that, Dean was back to marveling at Castiel. He'd come so far, in such a short time. He'd honestly believed, once upon a time, that his parents were dead because of him. And now, while he may not have changed completely, he was standing up for himself. He believed in himself, and he let things go. He was letting the guilt go, and Dean was so proud. He knew how hard that was, both from personal experience and from watching his angel struggle with it. He was getting better, and Dean had watched him build that in himself. Hell, maybe he'd even helped a little.

  
He knew one thing. He sure as hell wasn't gonna tear it down. And if that meant he had to let go of some guilt too, then he could. He could do it for Cas.

  
He stood up, moving to stroke Cas's face. "Let's go home, baby."

>

  
Gabriel didn't really wait for Dean and Cas to get out of the hospital room. No, he pushed straight past the nurses on the floor, though the double doors, past the mothers with screaming children in the lobby, and out to his car. From there, he went to the gas station across from Dean's place and filled his tank up, grabbing a monster or two when he paid inside.

  
He drank them as he drove, knowing Sam would lecture him about how bad they were for you. But he needed to stay awake. Sam would lecture him more if he fell asleep at the wheel, especially on an icy night like tonight.

  
When he finally got to the apartment, he was strung out and exhausted. His eyelids burned for sleep and he fumbled with his keys at the door. When he got inside, he discovered that the lights were still on, the tv blaring, and Sam was asleep on the couch.   
He let go of a breath he hadn't known he was holding. There he was, safe and sound. Gabriel would take a lecture any day just to know that he was safe. That there was one person, at least, that he hadn't failed to protect.

  
He turned off the tv, and the lights, except for a lamp. He took the dirty plate off of the coffee table and put it in the sink, and then turned his attention to Sam.

  
He was asleep on the couch still, phone clenched in his hand and his other arm thrown under his head. Gabe knelt down next to him, gently shaking his shoulder. "Hey, I'm home." He said. Sam began to stir. "Come on now, let's get you to bed."

  
"Gabe?" He said, rubbing his eyes. "Gabe! What the hell? Where've you been? You never called!" Said Sam, grabbing his arms, trying to steady himself. "What happened?"

  
He shook his head. "We almost lost Cas today. And it was my fault."

  
"What do you mean?' Asked Sam.

  
He sighed. I was an idiot, he thought. "I thought... I just thought I could protect him."

And thus, he began the story all over again, from the start.

  
>

  
_He was picking Anna up, that was it. They didn't know he was here and they didn't have to. She told him she'd be out in a few minutes, but the longer he sat in his car, the more he doubted her._

_  
The muggy, early October air was getting to him. It was the middle of the goddamn night, and Anna had called him up, frantically muttering in Russian about how she needed to talk to him immediately and not a moment later. "Hurry up." He muttered to himself. The thin walls of his old escalade couldn't keep the air out completely. He wasn't even supposed to be here, what with parole and all._

_  
But when Anna came running out, he forgot all about parole. "Drive. Drive!" She'd said, throwing herself into the car and slamming the door shut._

_  
He'd obeyed, driving as fast as he could away. When they were finally in town, he asked her "Anna, what was that about?"_

_  
She hadn't answered. She'd shook her head, making him park in front of a dingy bar. The Roadhouse. She'd pulled him inside as soon as his keys were out of the ignition._

_  
It was loud inside, and she pulled him into a corner booth, placing an order before saying anything to him. "I would've been out earlier, but I heard them talking. I had to listen, because Gabriel, we need to do something."_

_  
"What is it? What's happening?" He'd asked._

_  
"It's Cas." She'd answered, voice small and shaking. Afraid._

  
>

  
"From there, we got his two close friends, Meg and Baz, to keep an eye on him. But it wasn't enough. Nothing we did was enough." Said Gabriel. The words scratched his throat raw, he spat up his confession like it was a jagged blade.

  
"Is he alright?" Asked Sam, concerned. "Is Dean? What happened today?"

  
"He's fine, but barely. He escaped into the woods, and Dean found him and pulled him out. It took us a while to figure out where he was, but he pulled through." He said, shaking his head.

  
"Then tomorrow, we'll drive up there, and we can deal with this then. Alright?"

  
He sighed. "It's not alright. This shouldn't have happened. I should've gotten him away when I had the chance."

  
"Why didn't you?" Asked Sam. There was no judgement on his face, no contempt in his voice.

  
He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of an answer. "I couldn't take him. I'd just gotten out on parole. And I didn't want him shipped off somewhere where we might never see him again. I thought if I kept close, and had Anna and Meg and Baz watching out for him, then he might be okay." The others hadn't liked it either, but they'd agreed to his plan. That was, on one condition. He had to tell Cas, and soon. A condition he'd never been able to bring himself to fulfill. And that was the crux of it all, now wasn't it. The fault that had brought them all down was his own.

  
"Look." Said Sam, "You need to stop doing hypotheticals in the past tense. It's not going to change anything. And if, when we go up there tomorrow, he wants to yell at you, he can. But stop blaming yourself for being a victim." Sam sighed. "Let's go to bed."

  
He let his shoulders fall. The fight had gone out of him, at least for now. So he let himself be led, by hand, into the bedroom and to sleep.

  
>

  
At least, she thought, it was three days before Christmas Eve.

  
Technically, since it was 12:05 AM, it was two days now. But all it meant was that she had an excuse for being in the super target at an ungodly hour of the morning. Because in all honesty, she'd be here at this time no matter what time of year it was. Had this happened in the summer, she'd have come here all the same.

  
It didn't strike her, at the time, how ridiculous it all was. It didn't come to her, in her frame of mind, that people acquire clothing and necessities the way leaves acquire dew in the morning; so naturally that no great effort ever need be made, unless circumstances dictate otherwise. She had a goal, and she was set on it. For she had been a mother for twenty one years now, and a nurse for twenty three. And when she saw a person hurt, especially a child, her first instinct was to care for them.

  
This child was a member of her family now. And since he was an orphan, he was, in her mind, one of her own. And she'd sell her own clothes before she let one of her own go without. This being her frame of mind, her mind was made up.

  
She didn't plan to take longer than an hour. She'd shopped for Dean enough to know what size of everything to buy, and she didn't plan on buying anything extravagant. The first thing she found were the jeans, a few sturdy pairs that wouldn't wear out. In the cart they went. Next came undershirts and boxers. They were on holiday sale, too. She picked out a few colors and added them to the cart.

  
And this was her method, walking up and down the store. There were maybe one or two other people there, so for the most part, she was alone with her thoughts. Next was shirts. She decided on a button down and two t-shirts. A sweatshirt. Lots of socks. Gloves, and a hat and a scarf, since he'd been wearing some of Dean's all winter.

  
She was finished with the clothing aisles, but she wasn't finished. She also got deodorant, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a comb. She also got razors and shaving cream. Hell, she would've bought condoms, but she thought Dean might not speak to her again. With a lack of any more things to add to her cart, she went to the (near barren) wrapping paper aisle. She should've honestly expected it, it was very near Christmas. And she had wrapping paper at home, what she really needed were boxes. Upon finding the clothing boxes, she grabbed several, throwing them into her cart with abandon. Finally, she found a card, and with that her final purchase, she went to the checkout aisle.

  
By the time she got home, it was two. She was more exhausted than she'd been in a while, but she smiled. It'd be worth it, after all.

  
>

  
"Dean! Deanwakeup! DEAN!" He grabbed the folds of Dean's shirt, grasping for purchase, desperate.

  
"Mmm. Go 'sleep. 'S fine, baby."

  
"Dean!" He cried, feeling his throat catch. "Dean, I need you, wake up!"

  
"Huh? Angel, what time is it? What's going on? Are you crying?" Dean shot up, moving to pull Cas into his lap. "Are you in pain? Are your stitches pulling?" Said Dean, hands moving clumsily up and down his sides.

  
"Dean I don't remember anything. What happened? How'd we get here?" He asked, breathing hard and heavy, feeling the hot flashes of anxiety pulsing through him as he reached around his mind for information that wasn't there.

  
"Whoa, easy, it's alright. I got you, it's alright." Dean soothed, pulling him closer. He was sitting in Dean's lap now, with Dean's arms around him, caressing his sides. His breathing began to slow, and he leaned into the touch. "They gave you a lot of morphine, okay? You're fine. What's the last thing you remember?" Dean asked.

  
He thought for a moment. "I remember falling down in the woods. I fell, and I couldn't get up. And it started snowing. And then, then I was in a hospital, and the doctor, he told me I'd almost died, I shouldn't have lived, but I did. I lived. Did that, did that happen? Was that real?"

  
"Yeah, yeah it was, baby boy." Dean pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm proud of you. We all are. You really pulled through."

  
He'd pulled through. From what? He knew, of course, the violence he had been fleeing, but why? Why had they done that to him?

  
Normally, they didn't care about him, so long as he didn't try to pack up and leave like Gabriel had done. They fought him just to fight. It was in their nature. Lucifer because he lusted for blood, Raphael because he was always boasting his power, Uriel and Zachariah because they wanted to impress the other two. But this time, they had tied him up, kept him there. They had to have a purpose. Would they do it again?

  
"Oh my god, Dean, my brothers. What happened to them? How did you guys find me? What happened?"

  
"Sssh, sweetheart, you're not in danger." Said Dean. "They were arrested for, like, a shit ton of stuff. Apparently they were heroin kingpins, on top of... everything else. Your dad's company wasn't making them rich, blow was."

  
"What do you mean "everything else"?"

  
"You remember. Everything they did to you. It amounted to a bunch of charges. Assault and battery, assault with a deadly weapon, domestic violence, human trafficking." He listed.

  
"Human trafficking?!" He exclaimed, putting his hands on Dean's chest and looking him in the eyes.

  
Dean's eyes grew big and sad as soon as Cas spoke. This was how he'd looked when Cas had first told him about the fighting, about the bruises. After the initial anger, there was this sadness, this pity. "Dean, what is it?"

  
"Gabe was supposed to tell you." Cas watched Dean take a deep breath, struggling with what to say. "Baby, Lucifer convinced Raphael to sell you."

  
It was like a grenade had been dropped in his stomach. He felt the blood drain from his face. And Dean continued. "From what Gabe and you've told me, Lucifer is just insane. And Raphael wanted the money. So together they found a buyer. The deal's been in place for a year on Christmas Eve, that's when it was supposed to go down. Gabe was trying to stop them, but he couldn't. We think that's why they did this."

  
Something in the back of his mind began to awaken. A year ago. Christmas Eve, a year ago. "Oh god." He breathed.

  
"What is it?" Asked Dean, cupping his cheek.

  
"Dean, do you know what the buyer's name was?"

  
"Something strange. Alastair, I think."

  
_"The name's Alastair. Nice to meet you, doll."_

  
The memory came back in full clarity, despite the drunken blur that had previously obscured it. He felt lightheaded, his stomach lurching about his abdomen. "Dean, I think that's the man I told you about. From the party. Last Christmas."

  
There was a long pause, where Dean didn't say anything. Cas began to worry he was angry, but he couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. "Christ, Cas, are you sure?" He asked, voice breaking.

  
"How many Alastairs do you know, Dean?" He said breathlessly.

  
"You're right, you're right. I believe you baby, I'm sorry. It's just a lot to process." Dean sighed, burying his nose in Cas's hair. Cas tucked his head into the crook of Dean's neck, trying to press himself as close as possible, anchor himself to Dean. His safe haven.

  
Dean seemed to read his thoughts. "It's over now, baby, okay? It's all over. I promise, you're safe now. You'll always be safe, now." It's over. It was over.

  
After some silence, Dean spoke again. "Oh yeah, I forgot, I have something of yours, baby." Slipping out of Cas's arms, he went over to where his coat lay on the couch, and Cas saw him take something from the pocket. A piece of paper, it looked like.

  
Dean walked back over to the bed and handed it to him. In the pale light of the street lamps outside, he could see it. He gasped. "Oh god. I almost forgot this. How did you even?" He asked, breathlessly.

  
It was a photograph of his parents on their wedding day. The only one he owned. It was the only picture he had ever seen of his mother, that he could remember.

  
"We searched your house for you. I found it in your room. I thought you'd want it back." Said Dean.

  
Cas swallowed past the new lump in his throat, and Dean continued. "The frame was shattered, but I can take you to get a new one, if you want. We can put it wherever you want it to go." He said softly, stroking a hand up and down Castiel's back.

  
"Thank you. Thank you so much. I'd like that." He said, trying to keep himself from crying again. Dean pulled him close, letting him rest his head in the crook of his neck. He leaned into the touch, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes. He'd already cried too many times today. "This is the only photograph I have of my parents." He explained. "It was taken on their wedding day."

  
"I figured as much. That's why I got it for you. Didn't want the police taking it and maybe losing it, you know?"

  
"I love you." He mumbled into Dean's neck.

  
Dean kissed the top of his head, holding him close. "I love you, too."

  
At some point, they laid back down, and he fell asleep in Dean's arms again, warmth taking hold and lulling him back down.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda left the spn fandom unexpectedly, sorry about that. Here's the last chapter.

Cas spent the next few days being treated like he was at a spa, much to his chagrin. No matter how much he protested, Dean would not stop waiting on him. It was ridiculous. He was practically carrying him from room to room, and Cas was losing his mind. "Dean, you're going to have to let me use the crutches eventually, you know that, right?" 

Dean shook his head. "Nope. I'll just carry you until your foot is better. Now, are you hungry? Do you want some water?" 

Cas rolled his eyes, pulling Dean down onto the couch with him and snuggling into his chest as best he could with his broken ribs. "Dean, I'm fine. I'm honestly just tired right now. I don't need anything." 

"If you say so." Huffed Dean. 

Cas pressed a kiss to his jaw. "You're taking good care of me, Dean. I promise." 

Christmas came fast, and with it, they got in the car and went to Dean's parents' house, Cas's crutches and all. "It's tradition." Said Dean. "Every year, my family, Bobby, Jody, and the Harvelles spend Christmas together. And you're family, so you're coming." Cas just smiled. He didn't mind. "Oh, and just so you know, the eggnog has booze in it. I don't really know what kind, since Jo makes it and refuses to tell us, but it's good. And potent." 

"Noted." Cas chuckled. "Dean, are you nervous or something?" He asked. 

"Why would I be nervous?" Asked Dean, keeping his eyes pointedly on the road. 

"Well, this is the first holiday I'm spending with your family." He said, leaving it open ended for Dean to answer. 

"I'm not nervous, I swear." Said Dean, stepping out of the car and around to get Cas's door. 

"Right." Said Cas. 

"Also, I don't know if I told you, but my mom went Christmas shopping for you." 

"That was nice of her." How thoughtful, thought Cas. He hadn't expected anyone to go shopping on such short notice, especially with the, well, activity the last few days had brought. 

"And she may have gone a little overboard. So just be ready." 

"Dean." He said, smiling and putting his hand on Dean's shoulder. "It's gonna be fine. I'll be fine. Now help me get out of the goddamn car." 

It was a casual affair, just as Castiel had expected. Dean spent most of his time in the kitchen, helping his mother and Ellen prepare dinner. He set Cas up on the couch where Sam and Gabe were. Bobby and Jody were on their way, and John and Jo were locked in a fierce argument about handguns versus shotguns. Ash was simply egging them on with questions about barrel size and makers. It was amusing to watch. The whole scene was made with the smell of turkey wafting in from the kitchen and a football game droning on in the background. 

When dinner was served, he found that instead of eating at the table, they ate on couches and chairs in the living room. The food was on the table, buffet style, and Dean got him a plate. He also accepted a glass of eggnog, to which Dean raised an eyebrow. He didn't say anything, just squeezed Dean's hand when he sat down next to him. He was plenty comfortable here. He wasn't worried about anything, and Dean didn't need to be either. 

After dinner and desert (apple pie, the best he'd ever had), it was about an hour before anyone could move again. When they could, though, they decided it was time to unwrap gifts. 

Dean snuggled up behind him, placing him in the v of his legs, so that there was more room on the couch. Ellen climbed up on the other side of Sam and Gabe, and Jo sat at her feet. Dean's arms wound around his stomach, and he melted back into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. 

Passing out gifts was just as casual as dinner had been. Depending on who they were from, some were comical, and some were more thoughtful. For example, Dean had gotten his mother a gift card to a spa, Sam had gotten her a new stethoscope, and Ellen had gotten her an obnoxiously large wineglass with the words "it's 5 o'clock somewhere" on it. 

He'd gotten (with Anna's help, since she was friends with the record shop owner) a vintage AC/DC vinyl for Dean, to go with the turntable Sam had gotten him. Dean loved it. He pressed a huge, wet kiss to Cas's cheek, prompting Sam to cough at them. "What, you want one too, Samantha?" He asked. 

Eventually, Mary handed Cas a large box, probably the largest in the room. "I thought it'd be easiest for you guys to take home if it was all in one box." She said. "You'll have to tell me if anything doesn't fit, though it should. I just bought Dean's size in everything, since I've seen you in his clothes." 

As he opened the box, he was a little taken aback. It was completely full of new, folded clothes, tags still on and everything. There was also a smaller box inside it, which was filled with toiletries. "Oh my god." He said. "Thank you so much, for all of this." 

"It's not a problem at all." She said, smiling. 

"Told you she went overboard." Said Dean. It was supposed to be under his breath, but his mother heard him anyway. 

"I didn't go overboard. It's Christmas, deal with it." She chided. 

The rest of the night passed much the same way. Eventually, it got to be around midnight, and Bobby and Jody said their goodbyes and went home. Ellen, Jo, and Ash were too tired to drive, so Ellen and Jo took the guest bed and Ash took the couch. Sam and Gabe slept in Sam's room, and Dean led Cas into his old bedroom. 

It was almost exactly what he would've expected. Rock posters all over the room, as well as Star Trek ones, and a few Game of Thrones ones. A desk that looked like it had never seen homework in its life. And a big, soft bed, slightly older than the one at Dean's apartment. It squeaked a little when they laid down. "Your mom's really great." He mumbled into Dean's shoulder, tired and a little drunk. 

"Told you, she's the best." Slurred Dean. "Gotta love mom." 

He smiled, letting his eyes fall closed. "She really didn't have to do all that for me."

Dean shook his head. "She did anyway. That's how she works. She's always asking questions, but I know damn well that without her I'd have no furniture and no clothes. She takes care of all of us, whether we ask her to or not. Get it?" 

His explanation was slurred and rambling, but he understood. He couldn't remember whether he answered Dean before he drifted off. 

>

Cas woke up with a pounding headache. Fuck, fuck fuck. At least he wasn't vomiting, right? He'd only had two glasses, after all. They must've been strong. 

Sitting up as gently as possible, he realized it was still dark out. Dean's digital alarm clock, sitting on the dresser, read three am. It was early, but he really needed ibuprofen. For his head and his ribs. But he really didn't want to wake Dean. He'd barely gotten any sleep these last few days, and he looked so peaceful in the barely-there light. 

He eased himself out of bed and grabbed one of his crutches, maneuvering himself into the hallway. He remembered where the kitchen was, and there had to be a medicine cabinet. If not there, than in the bathroom. 

Eventually, he was down the hallway and into the kitchen. However, he was not alone. 

He almost jumped when he saw another person, but soon realized it was just Mary. "Did I wake you?" He whispered. 

"No, honey, I was awake." She said, standing and pulling out a chair for him. He sat down, relieved to be off the crutch. "You need some advil?" She asked. 

"Yes, please." He said.

"It's over here, just so you know." She said, pulling the bottle from a cabinet and handing him some pills. He was about to swallow them dry when she gave him a glass of water as well. "How're the ribs?" 

"They've been better." He said, "but I haven't had too much trouble." 

"I take it Dean's been taking care of you, then? I told him what to do, but I never really know if he's listening." She asked, sitting back down opposite him. 

"Yes ma'am." He nodded. "He's a good caregiver. I think he likes having someone to care for." 

"Runs in the family." She said. "That's why I became a nurse. Just watch, your babies'll have it too, I guarantee." 

That made him laugh. "Just what I'll need, a bunch of tiny nurses and doctors running around." 

She laughed too, laughing with him. "With Dean, it was a firefighter, you know. You might have a little variety. Maybe a police officer. Now Sam, he's wanted to be a lawyer as long as I can remember. Never does change his mind much, that one. What was Gabe like?" 

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the memory. "Evel Knievel. He wanted to be a stunt man, even tried to ride his bike off a balcony once. Michael caught him before he got out the doors." 

"Kids." She sighed. "Steep learning curve. But in the end, they're worth it." 

"You really think so?" He asked. 

"I know so." She said. "I tell you, I had my doubts. Every parent does. When you're up every two hours with a screaming baby, you can't help but doubt. But now, twenty some-odd years later? I wouldn't give my family for anything." 

He had nothing more to say. He just nodded, trying to show solidarity. He believed her, he really did. But how could he add to that? He had no experience with families. Well, that wasn't true. He had Anna, and Gabe and Michael, when he saw them. But he didn't know what she was talking about, not fully, not yet. One day, but not now. 

"You count too, by the way." 

"What?" He asked. He counted for what?

"You count." She said, simply. "You, and Gabriel, and Anna and Michael. And since Anna and Hester are mates, she counts too. As family, I mean. You're Winchesters now, kiddo." 

He was taken aback. Her effortless kindness surpassed any he had ever seen, save for in Dean. He knew now where he got it from. "Thank you." He said. "That means more to me than you might imagine. You've been so kind to me and my siblings, all of you have. I will find a way to repay it." 

She stood up, putting her water glass in the sink. "You don't have to, honey, there's no pressure. That's what family is for." She kissed him on the forehead, so similar to the way her son sometimes did, before heading back to bed. 

>

"Dean, you know you're gonna have to wear dress pants, right?"

"So what? I do have dress pants, you know." 

"Oh really. Where?"

"In the back of the closet." 

"Those are my dress pants, Dean." Sighed Cas. "But I'm gonna wear khakis. You won't be able to see them under the gown anyway. You can wear mine." 

"Thanks, Cas. I'll buy some eventually. What shirt do I need to wear?" 

"Just a button down is fine. Not my white one, I'm wearing that." He hoped it wouldn't show too much under his gown. He also hoped it wouldn't be too hot. You could never tell what the weather was gonna be like these days. 

And today was Cas's graduation. After this, he would officially be an adult. No more school, no more tests, no more papers. He'd probably get a job. No more late night study sessions with Dean, the both of them staying up into the wee hours of the morning trying to get Cas to memorize Spanish verbs or mathematical formulas. He wouldn't miss those. He would, however, miss the way Dean would always rub his neck and tell him relax, you're gonna do fine. How proud he'd be when Cas came home with A's and B's. According to Charlie, everyone at the garage knew when Cas had taken a test, because Dean would come in the next day telling everyone about it. Cas could only imagine the carnage. It made him wonder if Dean would be the same way with their kids, one day. 

He could tell Dean was proud today. He'd been wearing that lopsided grin all morning, and pressing extra kisses into Cas's neck and hair. He'd even made him blueberry waffles for breakfast. His favorite, even though Dean couldn't stand them. 

Cas was waiting for Dean now, at the door. He came out of their room throwing a shirt over his head and grabbing his jacket, wallet, and keys. "Dean, you know you can't wear a leather jacket with dress pants, right?" He asked. 

"Yeah, yeah, just grabbin' it just in case. I'll leave it in the car, okay babe?" He chuckled. "I won't show up looking like a bum." 

"Good." Said Cas, locking the apartment door behind him and grabbing Dean's hand as they walked down the hall. "We can't have that. Want to make a good impression to a bunch of stranger's families." 

That made Dean laugh again. "Oh god, he's wearing stripes and plaid! Hide the children!" 

They drove to the school in comfortable silence, and Dean parked when they got there instead of just pulling up. "What's up?" Asked Cas

Dean turned in his seat, directly facing Cas now. "I know I probably say this a lot, but I just wanted to make sure I told you today how proud I am. Everybody acts like high school is something easy, like it's not challenging and isolating and tough. But it is. People struggle through it, and not everyone makes it. And you had some tough times too, in school and out. But you did it, you made it all the way to the end. And that is fucking amazing, Cas. You are amazing. You are the strongest, bravest, smartest man I know, and I will never stop telling you how proud I am of you. I'm proud of what you've done, I'm proud of who you are. I'm proud to love you. And I just wanted to make sure you knew." 

Emotion flooded him, and he felt himself begin to cry a little. When Dean's hands cupped his cheeks, thumbing away the tears, they became impossible to hold back. "Are you ok?" Asked Dean. 

"Yeah." He said, nodding. "I just need a minute. You can't give a speech like that and not expect me to cry a little." He tried to joke. 

"Come here." Said Dean, pulling him in. 

"I'll get your shirt messy. Come on, Dean, you can't make me cry before a ceremony." He sniffled. It was passing now, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I love you too." He said, smiling. "And I'm proud to love you, too. You are caring and loving and kind, and those are incredible values to have." 

Dean leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You're gonna be late, honey. I'll see you at the ceremony. Okay?" 

"Yeah. See you there." Said Cas, kissing him back and getting out of the car. 

A few hours later and Cas was sitting on stage, waiting for his name to be called so he could be handed a diploma. Apparently, he'd be graduating suma cum laude, which was exciting. He'd spotted the Winchesters already, as well as Gabriel and Hester sitting with them. Gabriel was actually wearing a suit. He supposed Mary had had something to do with that, since he was pretty sure Gabriel didn't even own a suit. Hester was out of her FBI pantsuits and in a white dress that bore a striking resemblance to the red one Anna was wearing. He smiled at that. He knew it had always been a dream of hers to wear matching dresses to an event. 

Eventually, his name was called. It was over as quickly as it had begun. He was right after his sister, and he waved at his family when they stood and cheered. When the ceremony was finally over, he, Sam, and Anna all went down to see their family together. 

The room was incredibly crowded, but thanks to Sam's gigantic form, they eventually made it all the way to the section they needed to get to. Deciding to wait a few moments before leaving, they all sat down together. 

"I got you flowers." Said Dean, handing him a bouquet of roses and baby's breath with a miniature graduation cap in the centre. 

"Thanks." He blushed. 

"You hungry? We were thinking of going to the Roadhouse for awhile." 

"Yeah, I could eat." He answered. 

"Sweet! Burgers it is." Once out of the crowd and in the parking lot, they all piled into cars, Cas and Dean in the impala, everyone else in Gabe's escalade or Mary's sedan, and headed to the bar. 

For some reason, when they got there, Dean parked on the other side of the street. "Dude there was an empty spot." Said Cas. 

"Was there? I didn't see it." Said Dean. He opened Cas's door for him and they crossed the street together. By the time they got outside the bar, everyone else was already inside. "Hey Cas, wait a second." Said Dean, stopping Cas before he could go in the doors. 

"What is it?" Asked Cas. 

"You know, our first date was at this bar." He said, scratching his neck. 

"Yeah, yeah it was." Said Cas. He wasn't sure where this conversation was headed. "It was a good date." 

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it? Anyway, that's not really my point. My point is, this place is already kind of special... so there's something I wanna ask you. Before we get inside, you know, so you can tell me the truth out here, and I'll be cool with it, okay?" 

"Okay..." Said Cas, eyeing Dean suspiciously. "Go for it." He wasn't expecting any sort of question in particular, really. 

He definitely wasn't expecting Dean to get down on one knee. 

"Cas, I told you earlier today how proud I am of you, and how proud I am to love you. You make me happier than anyone else. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, god willing. You make the world a better place for everyone, and I want to be part of your world forever." 

It was really happening. Everything he'd never let himself want. They'd done it, they'd really done it. They'd made it, together. 

"Will you marry me, Cas?" Asked Dean, pulling a black velvet box out of his dress pants. That must've been why he'd had the coat in the car. To keep the box securely hidden. And inside the box, he revealed, was a beautiful diamond ring, on a thick silver band. "Yes." He said, nodding his head and trying to keep from crying again. Twice in one day, that just wasn't fair. He was just so happy now. 

"It's also engraved." Said Dean. He gently lifted the ring out of the box, showing the inside to Cas. Люблю тебя всем сердцем, всей душою. I love you with all my heart, with all my soul.


End file.
